Love Lockdown
by Lady Silvamord
Summary: They say it takes a village to raise a child. Similarly, it takes the entirety of Akatsuki to help Itachi get the girl. ItaSaku, complete.
1. Let It Rock

_Love Lockdown _

_-_

_They say it takes a village to raise a child. Similarly, it takes the entirety of Akatsuki to help Itachi get the girl. _

_Existing on the obviously alternate universe pretext – Sakura, captured by the Akatsuki, in order to heal Itachi's eyes. Completely intentional crackfic. (If you want a more realistic take on the pairing, check out Disturbia, my other ItaSaku fic. If you're just looking for the lulz, however, you're in the right place.) _

-

_Dear Akatsuki,_

_What the hell._

_Cordially, _

_Haruno Sakura. _

_P.S: As you may or may not be aware, your capture of me while I was preoccupied and tending to the wounds of my teammate constitutes a severe transgression of international law. Namely, Ordinates 7 and 8 of the Kumokagure Convention, Amendment 6 of Kiele's Law, and Article 3 of the fifth treaty of Suna. There are several more, but these are the most significant. All are punishable by death, and one of the acceptable death sentences from the latter treaty involves having one's eyeballs plucked out and then suffering their entire person being burned at the stake. I sincerely hope that this odious dwelling that you call "Headquarters" is located within the jurisdiction of said province. _

The letter drifts down from a crack in the ceiling and lands on Itachi's head.

Normally, he would be far too sensitive to external stimuli to let something like this pass, but it is eight at night on Wednesday, which means that he is completely and intently focused on world domination.

He surveys the extensive fortune in front of him, before delicately selecting one five-hundred-yen bill and passing it to Tobi. "I intend to acquire Park Place."

After a few moments pass, and the orange paper is still clutched in his hand, Itachi looks up from his intense inspection of the Monopoly board, to find Kisame, Deidara, Tobi, and Hidan all staring at him with various measures of shock written on their face.

"…The fuck?" Hidan inquires in his customary eloquent manner, tilting his head in a puzzled fashion.

Normally, anybody who dared speak to him this way would receive a swift kunai to the throat for their troubles, but Itachi unhappily observes the Leader's number one rule in this instance; physical, emotional, and mental warfare among members is strictly forbidden. "Pardon?" he replies, in his customary deadpan, setting down his paper currency.

This slight movement is enough to send the letter fluttering from his head to land, squarely, in the center of the Monopoly board. Tobi whimpers slightly, as it upsets his tiny silver thimble playing piece. In a moment of uncharacteristic unity, all five Akatsuki lean forward in an attempt to study the scrap of bright red fabric. "The medic," Itachi deduces almost immediately, before deigning to prod it with one purple-painted fingernail.

Deidara gives him a suspicious look, as he is still trying to make out the script. "How do you know?"

"Crimson," Itachi says, by way of explanation. "None of us own anything quote so…flamboyant."

There is a pause, in which each man shoots a surreptitious glance at Tobi.

Tobi winces, obviously injured by their suspicion. "My pajamas are fuchsia, not bright red! And I would never tear them up in such a hideous fashion, anyway."

Deciding to rid everybody of the ensuing mental image of Tobi running rampant in fuchsia silk pajamas, Kisame inhales distastefully and takes a closer look at the rust-colored letters. "It's written in blood."

Hidan nearly recoils. "That's a hell of a lot of blood."

"How crass, un," Deidara says, rolling his eyes. "There's memo paper and a perfectly decent pen in the drawers."

"Our house isn't odious," Tobi cuts in, completely separate from the point, while sounding as if he is dangerously close to tears. "I decorated it myself!"

There is an uncomfortable silence around the table, before Deidara finally gathers enough courage to pat Tobi on the shoulder tentatively. "The paper chains and colored doilies are very…nice, un."

Hidan nearly has to stuff his knuckles into his mouth to refrain from bursting out into profanity-laced laughter after Tobi attaches himself to Deidara's arm in a crushing hug. "Thank you, Deidara-senpai!" he wails, tears of real emotion cascading down his face. "I will treasure this compliment to my interior decorating skills for the rest of my life!"

Kisame sneaks a look at Itachi, who still stares at the scrap of fabric, seeming more or less unaffected by the idiotic antics of his brethren.

"Kisame," he begins slowly, Monopoly forgotten. "We brought the medic here an hour and a half ago, at which point you had drained her completely of chakra and left her unconscious. It should have taken days to regain even a little of her strength."

The shark-man shrugs uncomfortably. "Part of the reason we sought her out _was_ for her unusual degree of chakra control, after all."

"Interesting," Itachi looks up, his concentration momentarily diverted by the unwelcome sight of Hidan stuffing all the potato chips down his face at rapid speeds. He scowls with displeasure, and Kisame resolves to buy a few more bags during his trip to the market this weekend, for the sake of everybody's safety and sanity – Itachi deprived of his favorite snack is not a pretty sight. "Deidara," the Uchiha prodigy says evenly.

The artist momentarily ceases his endeavor of trying to claw Tobi off of him. "Yeah?"

"…May I borrow your pen?"

This simple statement gives Deidara a positively novel idea; he pulls the pen out of the inner pocket of his cloak, quickly stabs Tobi in the eye with it, throws him behind the battered couch, and vaults over to the game table smoothly. He makes to hand the pen over to Itachi, before pulling it back with an unusually shrewd look on his face. "What are you going to do with it, un? This is a very high-quality artistic pen."

"I intend to write a letter," replies Itachi in his customary monotone, reaching for the pen.

Deidara stuffs the pen down his mesh shirt with lightning speed. "No, un!"

Upon faced with this outright defiance, the wheels of the Sharingan start spinning, and Deidara quickly moves to the other side of the table. "Jeez, relax," he says defensively, whipping out a pristine sheet of ivory paper emblazoned with the maroon Akatsuki clouds, from the nearest drawer. "Everyone knows that I'm the head of the department regarding writing Official Letters To Be Written To Prisoners, un."

Itachi blinks, momentarily confused. "There is no such department."

Deidara wags the pen at him. "Yes there is, un!"

Predictably enough, the Sharingan starts up again, and Itachi is at his side at the blink of an eye, looking even more menacing than normal.

He lunges for the pen, and Deidara rolls deftly under the table, gripping one solid oak leg for security. Itachi slides off his chair, so that he is on his knees, looking at the blonde missing-nin with nothing less than murderous intent in his eyes. "You know, that's the kind of behavior that got you into this situation in the first place, un," Deidara chirps lightheartedly. "And don't even think about following me under here, because Hidan will see and then misinterpret it, and will then proceed making his _all-homosexuals-are-cursed-by-Jashin-sama_ speeches, un."

Itachi ponders this for a few moments, before grudgingly seeing the wisdom of the statement. The Sharingan slowly fades from his eyes, leaving them as black as night. "Fine." He rises, and then seats himself back on the chair, steepling his fingers and resting his chin atop them.

Kisame, who had been in the kitchen searching for acceptable refreshments, finally emerges, clutching a glass of chilled Vitamin Water. He casts a jaundiced eye around the room – Tobi is curled up in a ball behind the couch, nursing a mysteriously bruised eye, Hidan has fallen asleep amid a veritable storm of potato chip crumbs, Deidara has taken cover under the table, and Itachi is seated at said table as regally as ever. The shark-man sighs. "I leave you alone for _one_ minute." He walks back to the table, setting the glass down, and nods at his partner. "By the way, I think the medic is clawing at the door – not like that'll help any, but you can hear the infernal scratching sounds from the kitchen."

Deidara, sensing safety, slides out from under the table, pen and memo paper ready, before grabbing the next available seat. Kisame perks up slightly. "What are you two doing?"

"Replying to our captive's missive, of course," Itachi replies, before looking upward. "Her room is directly above here – she must have managed to shove it through the floorboards."

"I keep telling Leader-sama that this place needs remodeling," grouses Kisame.

Deidara snorts disdainfully. "Bullshit, un. Like he'd let you paint the whole thing blue with little fishies all over. It's even worse than Tobi's paper chains and doilies."

Itachi taps an impatient pattern out with his fingers.

"Oh, fine, Uchiha, keep your pants on…"

Itachi's left eye twitches slightly. Kisame's glass of vitamin water suddenly acquires a spiderweb crack in it, and he takes it hastily and downs it, before disaster strikes.

_Dear Lovely Captive, _Deidara begins—

"Too unprofessional," Itachi interrupts coldly. "She offered her name as a closing; it seems fitting that we use it."

Deidara rolls his eyes expressively.

_Dear Sakura, _

"Too informal."

"Go to hell, Uchiha."

In a testament to his agility, Kisame grabs Itachi's fist before it finds its mark. "Remember your breathing exercises," he says in an undertone.

Itachi crosses his arms and comes as close to sulking as he possibly can.

Deidara smirks, and continues writing.

_Dear Sakura,_

_Greetings, and welcome to Akatsuki! You will be our honored guest here for an as yet undetermined period of time, for purposes which will be made clearer to you upon your first encounter with the official Akatsuki Welcoming Committee. But that's only going to happen later, after you kind of get your bearings a bit, and freshen up – sorry about all the blood and stuff, Hidan gets a bit carried away sometimes, but he's essentially a nice guy. _

"Gut the fucking panda," Hidan snarls, in his sleep, and all three men pause for a moment and direct uncertain looks at him.

_First of all, let me acquaint you with our facilities. Assuming that you are up and about, approximately fifteen feet from the door (which is made out of chakra-enhanced solid oak, so don't even try scratching it or punching it or whatever the hell you do – you're just going to hurt yourself), is a dresser. It is pink. Kind of like your hair. Leader-sama got it on sale, but Itachi and Kisame didn't want it in their room because they think they're too badass for it, I think Hidan said that it was "the ugliest fucking color he had ever seen in his life" and then threw it at somebody, and Tobi had opted for the lime green instead, although I don't know why, it has no aesthetic value—_

If Itachi had been a cruder sort of individual, he would have cracked his knuckles. Instead, Kisame hits Deidara solidly on the head. "Get to the point."

_Anyway. Inside the upper right drawer of said pink dresser, you will find a pen and memo paper. That will save you from using your own blood as ink, and from tearing up your lovely shirt in order to correspond with us. Although I'm not complaining in the least—_

"I know where you sleep," Itachi says in a monotone.

With a slightly alarmed look, Deidara crosses out said offensive sentence.

…_Well, yes. If you have any further questions, feel free to send another letter. You may address it to Deidara, Official Head of the_ _Official Letters To Be Written To Prisoners Department, and shove it through the floorboards. It will find its way to me. _

_Cheers!_

_Deidara, _

_(and Itachi and Kisame, I guess.)_

_P.S: We're not within the jurisdiction of any laws whatsoever, by the way. One of the perks of claiming membership among the number one terrorist organization in the world. _

_P.P.S: Please do not attempt to escape. You will fail. Miserably. And then we will all laugh at your foolishness behind your back. _

Deidara sets the pen down, a rather pleased expression on his face, and folds the memo paper neatly, before signing Sakura's name on it, with several unnecessary flourishes. "Now," he announces, "who wants to give me a hand up, un?"

Itachi somehow manages to distance himself in every possible way without actually shoving his chair back from the table – a miraculous feat. Kisame shoots his partner a dirty look. "Thanks."

"Anytime."

Instead of the promised hand up, Kisame instead opts to sweep Deidara into his arms, bridal-style, and dangle him up toward the ceiling, as he struggles to push the letter back up into the floorboards. Kisame looks down at Itachi briefly, and then once again – unsurprisingly, a tiny smirk adorns his normally impassive features. Thankfully, the letter finally makes its way up the floorboards.

"Success, un," Deidara says triumphantly.

Kisame takes this as his cue to promptly drop the artist on the floor; unconcerned as to Deidara's groans of pain, he pauses by the table on his way back to the kitchen. "Vitamin water, Itachi?"

Deidara moans theatrically at the sound of Kisame's voice, and back in the corner, Tobi has wrapped his arms around his knees and has begun to sing catchy pop tunes to himself, which he often does in times of great emotional distress. Meanwhile, Itachi hears the distant echo of a feminine howl of rage and frustration, followed by a resounding thud – presumably, an unprotected fist connecting with a solid oak door.

The Uchiha prodigy massages his temples. "Yes, thank you, Kisame. I will probably need it."

* * *

And so it begins. :)

Feedback appreciated!


	2. Gives You Hell

_Thank you very much to everybody who reviewed. :)_

_-_

"One," Kisame intones, before purposefully locking eyes with the other four men around the table.

Itachi's hand tightens into a fist.

"Two."

Deidara's visible eye twitches in a rather convulsive manner.

"Three."

Hidan utters a soft prayer to Jashin-sama for luck.

"Shoot!"

Within the blink of an eye, all of their hands have met in the center of the table, after forming into the symbols that will, ultimately, determine their individual fates.

"Two scissors…one rock…one paper—"Kisame begins calculating, before he is rudely interrupted.

"What the fuck is that?" Hidan screeches, gesturing animatedly at Itachi's hands. "That's not legal!"

All eyes swivel to the Uchiha; when Deidara discerns what, exactly, the object of all the controversy is, he gives an unusually high-pitched yelp and nearly leaps into Tobi's arms. Tobi handles this gamely, and pats the blonde missing-nin on his immaculate head. "There, there, Deidara-senpai," he soothes, attempting to rock him gently. "It's just a cute little cockroach!"

The cockroach in question waves its feelers in the air inquisitively. Itachi smirks, thoroughly satisfied with himself.

Deidara has taken refuge behind Tobi, who pats the cockroach lightly with his pinky finger. "Please do not look so angry," he implores Hidan, who looks infuriated enough to burst a blood vessel. "It is an innocent creature!"

"I demand an inquiry!" Hidan bellows at Kisame, before pointing an accusing finger at Itachi. "This rite is practically fucking sacred, and he _violated_ it!"

"Don't be juvenile," Itachi replies, bored.

"_Inquiry!_"

Deidara recovers enough to grab a spatula, and advances on the cockroach in Itachi's palm, looking positively manic.

"Shut up!" roars Kisame, and all activity within the Akatsuki kitchen falls to a standstill. "Itachi," he says, returning to his normal, moderate tone. "Explain your reasoning, if you will."

"It is elementary, really, Kisame. My recreational studies have concluded that in the event of nuclear warfare, these insects will be the only objects that will survive and remain healthy. Therefore," he concludes, eyes glinting triumphantly. "The cockroach trumps all."

A few moments of utter silence greets this declaration. "Now, now, Deidara-senpai," Tobi reassures gently, while attempting to wrest the spatula from Deidara's grip. "Violence is never the answer…"

A statement of this caliber shocks Deidara into relinquishing his weapon. "You're in Akatsuki, un," he replies blankly, staring at his partner. "Violence is _supposed_ to be the answer."

"Elementary, my ass!" Hidan retorts, before turning again to Kisame. "The Uchiha loses."

"Actually," Kisame scratches his head sheepishly. "In accordance with the terms of an official inquiry, he justified his answer in a fully sane and rational manner, without using any violence or hurtful language. Therefore, Hidan, the task falls to you."

"Fuck!" Hidan howls, and the rest of the kitchen winces as he storms out, while complaining at the top of his lungs about 'damned partiality and bias' all the way up the stairs.

Kisame collapses into the nearest chair, heartily wishing for some Vitamin Water. "…Do you think we should send reinforcements?" he asks, at last.

"That should not be necessary. Despite his, ah…temperament, Hidan is fairly capable." Itachi glides over to the kitchen window, opens it, and slides the cockroach on the windowsill, where it promptly scurries away, glad to be returning to a place where there is some sanity.

Deidara breathes a heartfelt sigh of relief. "Goodbye, little Wickham!" Tobi calls after it.

Itachi, Deidara, and Kisame all fix him with incredulous stares. "You _named_ it?" Deidara sputters.

"What kinda name is _Wickham_?"

Itachi just shakes his head disapprovingly.

Tobi shrugs, his sunny disposition unaffected. "It just fit."

Silence falls over the small group, broken only by Deidara's rummaging through the fridge in search of the peppermint ice cream, so that he may soothe his troubled nerves.

That is, until the loud, agonized scream rents the still air.

Tobi jumps and shrieks, Deidara drops the bin of peppermint ice cream, Itachi whirls around, the Sharingan already spinning, and Kisame jumps up, his hand going to the massive sword strapped to his back.

"Fuck! Fuck! _Fuck!_"

Each word is screamed with a noticeable increase of volume and agony. "Oh, it's just Hidan," Kisame says dismissively. "Never mind, then."

"Kisame-san!" Tobi exclaims, stunned. "We must attend to him! He sounds very distressed."

"I dropped my peppermint ice cream, un," Deidara says fretfully, as he attempts to dust off the ice cream bin.

"Nobody cares; that's some nasty shit, anyway," Kisame scoffs.

"I agree with Tobi," Itachi mumbles.

All focus shifts to him, as Deidara and Kisame halt what promises to be an excellent debate over preferred flavors of ice cream in favor of staring, completely astonished, at him. Tobi looks highly emotional. "Oh, Itachi-san! I knew we would come to an agreement, someday!" He rushes over to give the Konoha missing-nin a hug.

"Don't," Itachi warns, and Tobi retreats, looking quite disappointed.

This time, Hidan positively wails, and the four remaining Akatsuki members lose no time in rushing upstairs. Well, Itachi _stalks_ upstairs, generating his customary threatening aura, and Deidara and Kisame hurry to follow, while Tobi brings up the rear, humming action music of his own composition.

When they reach the hallway that the prisoner's room is located in, Itachi, surprisingly enough, stops dead, causing Deidara and Kisame to collide into his back, before crowding to fill the narrow space, and Tobi rams right into all of them, before standing on his tiptoes in a frantic attempt to see better.

"What the hell, un?" Deidara asks, rubbing a sore elbow.

This question doesn't take too long to be answered; the door to the medic's room is open, Hidan is curled against the wall, praying frantically and bleeding from a rather suspicious locale on his person, and the Leaf kunoichi herself, who is clutching a bloody pen and bracing herself against the wall, glaring menacingly at the rest of the Akatsuki. "Don't come any closer," she snarls, with what is surely false bravado, "or you'll end up the same way."

Kisame catches his breath, horrified. "You didn't."

" – With a _pen_, un?" Deidara practically cringes, his hands unconsciously drifting to guard area.

"I did," Haruno Sakura says grimly.

Itachi is considerably less intimidated than his peers; he steps forward. "Put the pen down, kunoichi."

One look at him is enough for Sakura to recognize the man. Her eyes widen, partly from stunned recognition – and partly out of sheer disbelief. "Are those _real_ Dior?" she asks, astonished.

Behind the sunglasses, Itachi blinks once. "Yes. They are."

"Excellent," she breathes, baring her teeth at him. "I'll make sure to take them with me shortly, then."

Kisame, Deidara, and Tobi's wide-eyed gazes swing from her back to Itachi. "Oh no she didn't, un," whispers Deidara.

Itachi removes the sunglasses, tucking them into his cloak securely. When he looks back up at the kunoichi, his eyes shine with the crimson-and-black light of the Sharingan. "Over my dead body."

Then, Sakura smiles. It is a scary smile, and, save for Itachi, every other man shudders with apprehension. "That was the plan, actually." Recklessness and lack of chakra be damned, she lunges toward him—

And, as her fist is a hairsbreadth away from connecting with his jaw, her path is obstructed by a rather strange and swirly orange mask. Sakura's eyes widen with surprise, and at the last possible second, she pulls the punch. "Please do not hurt Itachi-san! He's very sensitive!" The new voice implores, latching its arms around her in a formidable grip. "And please don't castrate the rest of us! We're all very nice people and we're going to be your new best friends!"

Sakura screeches and claws at it, to no avail, before she realizes that said formidable grip isn't a horrible, rib-crushing and internal organ-imploding death jutsu – it's just a hug. A very affectionate hug.

Kisame smacks his hand against his forehead, his normal composure shattered by the ridiculous sight in front of him. "What the _hell_, Deidara! You're his partner; you were supposed to train that stupid impulse out of him!"

"I _tried_, un—"

Hidan pulls himself up to a standing position with a groan and several pained entreaties for mercy to Jashin-sama. "Just watch, little pansy-ass artist-boy," he says, pointing accusingly at the beleaguered Deidara. "She's going to escape or something, and go back to that little village and tell her people, and before you know it, the whole goddamn _world_ is going to think that Akatsuki is a bunch of wimpy, huggy little fucktards!"

Itachi sighs and puts his sunglasses back on, wondering if it would be at all possible to apply for a transfer.

At last, Sakura figures out that the best way to get this – this orange _monstrosity _off of her may be to hug him back. She reciprocates tentatively, and her assumption had been correct; it releases her, its demeanor returning to a bubbly sort of happiness. "Nice to meet you, Sakura-san," it says cheerfully.

In the interests of courtesy, Sakura offers it a painful sort of smile. "Nice to meet you too – ah, what's your name?"

"My name is Tobi," it says, hugging her again. "Tobi is a good boy!"

While his comrades are busy sulking amongst themselves and quietly wondering if Leader-sama would be too upset if they abandoned their contracts while they still had some amount of dignity left, Itachi observes the change in the deranged pink-haired kunoichi's countenance; her expression morphs into one that would look fitting while regarding a particularly cute puppy, as she regards Tobi and willingly submits to another hug.

"What the hell?" she explodes, soon after she extricates herself from Tobi's grip. She throws the orange-masked missing-nin behind her, as if to protect him, and then stares down the rest of the Akatsuki. "Did you kidnap this poor boy, too? Because I will tell you, right now," Sakura advances toward Deidara, the nearest available victim, and pokes him in the chest with the bloody pen. "I will _never_ allow myself to become inducted into your…stupid little club!"

Kisame chokes on his indignity. "Stupid little club?"

Deidara throws his hands up and goes to retreat behind Hidan. "We did not kidnap him, un! He's actually a violent, fierce, ruthless killing machine!"

Sakura throws an incredulous look over her shoulder at the violent, fierce, ruthless killing machine in question, who has pulled out a large daisy from his cloak, and is now busily drawing a smiley face in the center with Magic Marker.

"Bullshit!" she yells. "Look at him! What kind of self-respecting psychopath would act so…cute and innocent!"

"Tobi would, un," Deidara replies darkly. "Appearances are deceptive – he nearly _killed_ Itachi during his induction."

Sakura takes a step back, startled, and then gives the Uchiha a measuring look, as if saying, _Okay, then, maybe I _can _take you._

In the next second, Itachi's fingers have closed around Deidara's throat. "We swore not to ever, ever speak of that incident again," he says, with a sort of dangerous calmness.

Heedless of the consequences, Kisame gently takes Itachi by the collar and removes him from Deidara, who has closed his eyes and begin reciting some of Hidan's prayers from memory. "Breathing exercises?" he whispers.

Itachi looks as if he would protest, but at last, inhales and exhales in a rather reluctant fashion.

"Very good," Kisame prompts. "Don't forget the chanting."

"Om," Itachi intones dangerously.

Kisame releases him, beaming proudly. "Very good!"

Meanwhile, Deidara tries to make himself as inconspicuous as possible.

Hidan sighs. "I'm surrounded by fucking idiots," he says, to nobody in particular.

Sakura takes in the tableau of insanity around her with wide eyes. "Why," she asks, with deceptive calmness, "am I here?"

A few moments of silence greet this question, until, finally, it is interrupted by a distant beeping. Much to her discomfiture, Sakura nearly jumps a foot in the air, half expecting it to be some kind of horrible clay bomb that will rip her to a hundred little pieces.

"Oh!" Tobi exclaims brightly, before dashing past the other occupants of the hallway, and down the stairs. "The brownies are ready!"

"I…had better tend to those." Kisame is gone in the blink of an eye, scurrying after him – well, as much as a massive, blue shark-man can _scurry_, anyway.

"Fucker!" Hidan yells, quite beside himself. "Tend to them, my ass! You always eat the best corner parts!"

He follows suit, leaving Deidara standing awkwardly between Itachi and Sakura. He chances a look around. "Brownies sound good, un," he echoes meekly, trailing downstairs.

Sakura blinks. "Well," she says, suddenly uncomfortably aware that she is occupying the same immediate space as the most notorious criminal that has ever come out of her village. A psychopathic, clan-killing, sadist is standing across the hall from her, and showing absolutely _no_ interest in going downstairs to sample the brownies that the rest of his freakish comrades are threatening to kill each other over.

"…Don't you want brownies?" she asks weakly. It is quite an inane thing to say, she supposes, but then, they hardly had 'How To Engage In Intelligent Conversation With Psychopathic, Clan-Killing Sadists' classes at the Academy.

Itachi stares at her for such a long time, his expression rendered completely inscrutable by the Dior sunglasses that cover the majority of the upper half of his face, that Sakura wonders if he had been too busy basking in the delights of his high-class fashion to hear her.

"I dislike brownies."

Sakura recoils; experience has given her a deep distrust of anybody screwed up enough to dislike sugary desserts. She takes a deep breath, regaining her focus. "…Why am I here?"

Itachi toys with the idea of being mysterious and infuriating, but in the end, he taps one darkened lens of his sunglasses with his perfectly manicured, purple-painted finger. "You are going to restore my vision to its optimal capability," he says tonelessly.

Sakura crosses her arms over her chest, returning to her combative posture. "No."

It is a strong reply, given without a hint of hesitation or reluctance or even thought; just the typical knee-jerk reaction of any shinobi asked to aid their enemy. Still, it is so rarely that Itachi is refused, that he blinks behind the sunglasses. "What?"

"_No._" Sakura glares at him. "Let me make myself clearer. I'd rather die than fix your eyes."

"That can be arranged."

Sakura scoffs, leaning against the wall. "Fine, then. Tie me to a chair and subject me to the idiocy of your teammates for a few days straight, and that should do the job just fine."

Itachi removes the sunglasses and activates the Sharingan, advancing toward her; despite her bravado, it is an intimidating sight, and Sakura cannot help but take a small step back. He smirks his satisfaction. "Let us be serious, kunoichi. Either you restore my eyesight, or you will die. But before you die, I will turn you over to Hidan. He may use far too much profanity to be considered socially acceptable, but he is an extremely skilled interrogator. And," he pauses, savoring his absolute power over her in this moment. "Your apprenticeship to the Godaime Hokage is common knowledge. I am sure you hold knowledge of many things that we would find – most valuable."

He has her cornered, well and truly cornered – literally, as well as figuratively – and Sakura knows it. Itachi can see this realization dawn in her eyes, and he allows a slight smile to touch the corners of his mouth.

"Fine," she replies, defiant even in defeat. Sakura tilts her head back to look him in the eye – when had he gotten so close to her? "But there's one condition."

Itachi raises an eyebrow. "And that would be?"

"The sunglasses," Sakura retorts, taking a step forward; she isn't backed up against the wall anymore, thankfully, but now she is close enough to him to practically feel the cold and frightening aura emanating from his person. "When I leave, I'm taking them with me."

Itachi retreats half a step; a startling condition, indeed. "Perhaps," he allows minutely. "But only if you behave yourself."

Sakura places her hands on her hips, fighting the urge to snarl, while debating the answer to a very important condition – dignity and death, exposing important state secrets in the process…or Dior sunglasses and life?

"Fine," the kunoichi sighs, resigned to her fate.

Itachi opens the door to her room. "Very well, then. We will begin tomorrow."

Unfortunately, the troublesome girl doesn't make a move to return to her holding cell; she crosses her arms over her chest stubbornly. "I haven't eaten since an hour before you captured me."

Itachi sighs almost inaudibly. "…We have brownies, peppermint ice cream, ramen, and vitamin water."

Sakura walks into the room without argument, although she can't resist tossing him a wicked look over her shoulder, as well as a thoroughly underhanded parting shot. "Vitamin water? What kind of _fruit_ drinks _vitamin water_?"

The door slams behind her, and as he stalks down the hallway, Itachi cannot contain his deep, heartfelt shudder.

He hears her laugh echo after him, and the Uchiha prodigy makes it a point to stomp on Tobi's discarded daisy on his way down the stairs.

* * *

Again, thank you so much to everyone who commented on the last chapter. :) Oh, and since I make it a habit to come up with songs that kind of fit with my fics – Let It Rock, by Kevin Rudolf, is the official theme song for the Akatsuki; otherwise known as the catchy action theme that Tobi is fond of singing. And of course, there's Love Lockdown, by Kanye West; the track that inspired this whole story. More to come later. :D

Feedback appreciated!


	3. The Trials Begin

_Thank you very much to everybody who reviewed. :)_

_-_

"Remind me, again," Itachi says painfully, rubbing at his eyes, "why this is necessary."

Sakura crosses her arms and makes it a point to address a random spot on the wall, rather than him. "Remind me, again," she counters, gesturing at the group of Akatsuki who are currently dismantling the contents of her room, "why _this _is necessary."

Before Itachi can reply, Tobi chips in, as he pushes the dresser out of the door. "We are just making sure that you have no way to possibly hurt Itachi-san!" With one mighty heave, the dresser is relocated to the hallway. He skips back into the room and surveys it thoughtfully. "Deidara-senpai, should we remove the bed as well?"

Deidara smirks at this innocent statement, and looks over at the glaring Konoha medic-nin and the equally irate Itachi; who, despite this, appears somewhat less murderous than usual. But then again, it is five in the morning, and by no means is the Uchiha prodigy a morning person. Besides, Deidara has to admit that even _Itachi_ just doesn't look as intimidating in a mere black t-shirt sporting his clan symbol on the back, and knee-length red shorts, not to mention the ever-present Dior sunglasses.

"Leave it, Tobi," Deidara says magnanimously. "There's hardly any danger of them fucking like bunnies, un."

At this statement, Kisame has to cease his last-minute search for pens in order to give Itachi a bear – shark? – hug, catching him in mid-lunge toward the blonde missing-nin, and quietly reminding him of his breathing exercises. Meanwhile, Sakura snarls in what Deidara feels is an unnecessarily menacing fashion. "Unlikely, you…you…fake-blonde bastard! What's infinitely _more_ likely is that I tear the bedposts off and bash his head in with them!"

At this point, just to be safe, Kisame reaches over and pulls a loudly protesting Sakura into his grip as well. "Have _you_ tried breathing exercises?" he asks sternly.

"What – no!" Sakura struggles, to no avail, while Itachi resentfully mutters the requisite series of _Om_'s, having, by now, learned that resistance is futile.

"Tobi!" Deidara yells, meanwhile. "You heard the demented kunoichi! Dismantle these bedposts immediately, un!" He scowls at the demented kunoichi in question, flicking his long ponytail over his shoulder. "And my hair is _not_ fake. Hair dyes thoroughly fail in replicating the true beauty of the colors found in nature. I'm a natural blonde, un."

"Aye aye, Deidara-senpai!" Tobi replies cheerfully, before getting on with the process. "And may I add, your hair is highly beautiful. But where is Hidan-san on this fine morning?" he asks, concerned, as he pries the bedposts free of the bed with hardly any effort.

Deidara winces at the very thought of his profanity-spewing comrade. "Busy nursing his injured testicles, un," he says, with a pointed look at Sakura, who wriggles out of Kisame's grasp with a satisfied smirk and dusts herself off.

Tobi removes the last of the four bedposts, and Deidara sinks onto the bed with a deep sigh. "Wait, _why_ five in the morning, un?" He frowns. "It is an hour thoroughly lacking in artistic merit."

Sakura rolls her eyes, having explained this at least ten times already. "The eyes are freshest and most rested in the early morning. It's the closest I can possibly get to a clean slate to work with."

"An acceptable explanation, I suppose, un," Deidara pulls himself out of the bed and stretches luxuriously. "Tobi!"

"Yes, Deidara-senpai?"

"I am going back to bed now. If you insist on using the shower, please refrain from singing, un. And if you use my plumeria shampoo, I will blow you up in your sleep."

Once delivering this weighty proclamation, Deidara pads out of the room, making no sound as he goes, thanks to the fluffy duckling – and very artistically savvy – bunny slippers that protect his feet from the cold wooden floor. Tobi follows, after bidding Itachi and Sakura a very cheerful farewell.

"Alright, then," Kisame yawns, inadvertently clutching his small stuffed shark closer. "I'll just leave you two alone." He snaps his mouth shut mid-yawn, in order to give both of them very shrewd looks. "If I hear _any_ screams whatsoever, we are all going to have a group yoga session this evening, do you understand?"

"Fine," Itachi mutters, barely able to contain his shudder of apprehension, and Sakura nods her assent.

Kisame trudges out of the room, leaving them both very much alone, standing in a room stripped bare, save for the mattress.

"What's with the shark?" Sakura wonders aloud.

Itachi intends to give this insufferable young woman no quarter, but admittedly, it is a valid question. "…When you squeeze its dorsal fin, it plays the _Jaws_ theme music."

The medic-nin wrinkles her nose, suddenly assaulted by awful flashbacks of being a little girl frightened of the sea, solely because of that movie. "Why would somebody _want_ that?"

"Kisame," Itachi mutters, "finds it soothing."

His voice is kept, carefully, as impassive as ever, but Sakura picks up on the intricacies of that tone – spoken with the quiet resignation of one who has become accustomed to falling asleep to his partner happily humming along to the Jaws theme song every night.

Sakura allows herself one smile, just one, before attempting to tap into her professional side; the one that is, incidentally, so much easier to tap into when she is in a clean, sanitized, brightly lit hospital room in Konoha, tending to familiar patients who are most definitely _not_ clan-killing psychopaths.

"…Take it off."

Upon receiving this medical decree, Itachi nearly chokes on the dry air of the room itself. "_Pardon_?" he asks, scandalized.

Haruno Sakura stares at him as if he is the village idiot – an expression that has never been directed at him. Ever. "The sunglasses," she says, taking care to pronounce each word carefully. "I can't…" she scowls at the very concept of it. "I can't fix your stupid eyes if those sunglasses are covering them."

Itachi stares back at her, making no move to remove the sunglasses. "Kunoichi, are you suicidal?"

Sakura tilts her head, and appears to actually give some thought to the question. "Not at all," she concludes at last. "And if that statement was directed as some kind of implied death threat because I called your eyes _stupid_, well – I'm not scared in the least."

He steps forward, effectively bridging the gap between them; unlike last night, she hardly bats an eyelid, and that alone is enough to give Itachi a moment's pause. However, Sakura has no intention whatsoever of telling him that without the Akatsuki cloak and the Sharingan, he is taken down a notch from evidently murderous and psychopathic and clearly dangerous member of the world's most notorious criminal organization to looking like…merely an evidently murderous and psychopathic and clearly dangerous (but otherwise normal-appearing and vaguely metrosexual) young adult.

Sakura is wise enough to know that articulating these thoughts would mean certain death, so she settles with reminding herself that she has previously held her own against several individuals at least as dangerous as this. "Sunglasses?"

It is a few moments before Itachi complies, but at last, he grudgingly removes his most beloved accessory, and Sakura does not miss the adverse reaction his weakened eyes have to even the slight amount of light in the room.

"Very well," she murmurs, lifting her hands, and they blaze with the emerald color of her chakra. The kunoichi offers him a small, somewhat dangerous smile, and Itachi realizes uncomfortably that she is suffering under the delusion that, as she is the one doing the healing, she will be the one to wield the power in this equation. "Sit down, if you will, and let's begin."

Itachi is reluctant to comply with this violent stranger without question. "Can we not do it standing up?"

Sakura raises an eyebrow, reflecting, in a brief moment of twisted humor, that if that weird fake-blonde guy were here, he would probably make some sort of ill-crafted sexual innuendo. "No."

This time, Itachi sits.

-

Kisame is sitting the kitchen, mechanically eating Frosted Flakes out of the box, when he is startled out of his reverie by the sudden appearance of his partner. He jumps, startled—one look at the clock confirms that it had been two hours since he had left Itachi upstairs, with not even a single sound of conflict emerging from the kunoichi's room. Interesting. Itachi might have made a _friend._

Itachi, blissfully unaware of his partner's train of thought, proceeds to open and shut each cabinet within reach. "Kisame," he says at last. "Where are the Fruit Loops?"

This question is precisely the one that Kisame had been dreading the most; he swallows conspicuously. "You're not wearing the sunglasses!"

"I am aware." The Uchiha fixes a distasteful glance at the box of Frosted Flakes – sugar disagrees with him. "…The kunoichi claims that my eyes need time to adjust to the neural corrections she performed." He pauses, before deciding to gift Kisame with the benefit of a conversation exceeding two sentences. "She believes that my vision will be fully and permanently corrected within the space of five or six sessions. _Where_ are the Fruit Loops?"

Kisame gives Itachi his widest smile. "How do your eyes feel?"

Itachi considers the probability that the kunoichi will be able to hear him from her upstairs room; just in case, he lowers his voice slightly. "…Highly satisfactory indeed." He glares at his partner, proving that said glare is just as frightening without the Sharingan activated. "If you do not inform me as to the whereabouts of the Fruit Loops, I will feed Zetsu your weekly ration of Vitamin Water."

Kisame nearly chokes on his indignation. "But – it would be totally _wasted_ on him!"

Itachi's fingers tap a deadly pattern on the kitchen counter.

"…Deidara ate them," Kisame confesses. "I threatened to use deadly force if necessary, but he said he would blow up Bruce if I didn't hand them over. But," he adds hastily, "Tobi made waffles. Strawberry waffles. They're in the fridge."

Without further comment, Itachi retrieves the plate of said strawberry waffles, a canister of whipped cream, Deidara's nearly-empty canister of peppermint ice cream, and a liberal helping of horseradish sauce.

Kisame watches with horror as Itachi empties the horseradish sauce into Deidara's beloved peppermint ice cream before stirring it into one, evil-looking concoction. "You know, he's going to cry now," the Mist missing-nin observes mordantly.

Itachi returns the tainted peppermint ice cream to the freezer and begins ingesting his waffles calmly. "He should not have eaten my Fruit Loops."

In an attempt to steer Itachi from this dangerous conversation, Kisame clears his throat purposefully. "So…how's the kunoichi? What's her name, again?"

Itachi sprays a towering amount of whipped cream onto his waffles. "Highly competent indeed," he concedes grudgingly, while sawing a bite-sized chunk off the corner. "_Sakura._ A rather generic name."

Kisame considers this as he takes another spoonful of Frosted Flakes. "I guess, but it sure matches her hair."

"Her hair is ridiculous and impractical." Itachi stabs a strawberry. "It sticks out like a sore thumb – the sole reason I remembered her from our conflict with the Kyuubi and Hatake Kakashi four years ago."

He eats the remainder of his waffle in a rather savage fashion, while silence suddenly descends over the kitchen table. By the time Itachi realizes that he may possibly have said too much, considering Kisame's nature for undue speculation, he looks up to find that Kisame is already staring at him, openmouthed, Frosted Flakes forgotten entirely.

The shark-man scoots his chair closer to Itachi, lowering his voice conspiringly. "Do you – _like_ her, or something?"

A piece of waffle goes down the wrong tract, and Itachi chokes, horrified. "_What_?"

"Tree!" Kisame barks suddenly.

"Leaves."

"Blood!"

"Red."

"Strawberry ice cream!"

"Pink."

"Zetsu's fungal cream!" Kisame fairly screams, pounding the table triumphantly.

"…Green."

Itachi realizes apprehensively that his partner has paled to a very washed-out shade of blue instead of his typical healthy turquoise. "Oh, my Buddha, she's like your icon for romance," Kisame breathes, aghast. "Itachi _likes_ a girl!"

As fate would have it, that is the exact moment that Deidara chooses to enter the kitchen, in need of his necessary hourly peppermint ice cream fix. By pure chance, he overhears the shark-man's words, incorrectly interprets the agonized expression on Itachi's face, and a smile of nothing less than dastardly glee spreads over his face. "Team meeting right now, un!" he hollers, his voice echoing throughout the house.

"Why the fuck—" Hidan begins to yell back, from his lair, but Deidara interrupts him, unable to contain the violence of his emotions.

"Itachi likes a _girl_!"

He has never considered himself suicidal, prior to this, but at that moment, Itachi briefly considers how practical it would be to smother himself utilizing strawberry waffles and whipped cream.

-

Less than ten seconds later, Deidara, Hidan, Kisame, Tobi, and Itachi himself are seated around the round table in the dank, dilapidated Akatsuki basement. This is hardly ever used except for the most serious and dastardly business, as, since he started dating Konan, Leader-sama preferred a more comfortable and familial environment for the members of his organization to enjoy.

Deidara sits at the twelve-o-clock, nearly bouncing with anticipation. Tobi sits at his right, looking rather excited, next to Hidan, who has a rather sickly countenance as a result of his run-in with Sakura the previous night. Kisame sits to Deidara's left, wringing his hands with guilt, while Itachi is seated next to Kisame, trying his very best to keep his expression as dangerous and murderous as possible.

"Okay, we're all here now, un—" Deidara begins earnestly, before Hidan interrupts him with an irritable grunt.

"Yeah, now that you've got us here under false pretenses, you can tell us what you really want to say. You do know that lying is a fucking sin, right?" Hidan asks, fixing Deidara with a beady-eyed stare.

"I'm not lying, un!" Deidara protests, injured.

"Deidara-senpai would never, ever lie," Tobi assures, all wide-eyed innocence.

"Fine, whatever," Hidan scowls.

"Now, now, I think this is all a misunderstanding – " Kisame says, in a brave attempt to rectify the situation.

"It's not, un," Deidara replies confidently.

"There's no need to be insecure, Itachi-san," Tobi reaches across the table, and pats him on the hand, completely unaffected by the dangerous, murderous expression. "I'm sure she likes you very much too!"

"Uh, Tobi, she thinks that he's a psychopathic, clan-killing murderer who's the number one enemy of her village, un," Deidara mutters in an undertone.

"…Oh."

Itachi decides to speak up now, before this madness can escalate any further. "I do not," he says icily, in a tone that brooks no argument, while taking care to fix his murderous stare on each of his brethren. "_Like. _Haruno. Sakura."

There are a few heartbeats of silence.

"Denial," Kisame, Hidan, Tobi, and Deidara all proclaim in unison.

"_What_—"

"Wait, un!" Deidara exclaims, before looking anxiously over at Kisame. "Before we start planning, is it even _allowed_ for an Akatsuki member to have a girlfriend?"

"_I do not want_—"

"Aren't Leader-sama and Konan dating?" asks Hidan, momentarily confused.

"I cannot see why we should be denied the several sunny summertimes of true love!" Tobi interjects anxiously.

"_What plans_—"

Kisame, who, by virtue of his even temper, ability to restrain any and all homicidal urges to the battlefield only, and seniority in the organization itself, has long been considered the de facto leader of Akatsuki while Pein and Konan are off on missions, as they are now. As such, it is his solemn duty to be the keeper of The Official Akatsuki Rulebook, Version Two Point Zero.

There is a minute of hushed silence as Kisame retrieves the ancient tome from the only cabinet in the room; even Itachi, in all of his righteous rage and indignation, cannot break the near-sacred reverence of the moment.

The table shudders and groans under the weight of the massive book as Kisame sets it down onto the table. "Dating," he says to himself, as he turns to the table of contents. The other members crane forward, in an attempt to see the tiny text better. "That should fall under 'Romantic Endeavors', ah…page…nine hundred and twenty-eight."

They watch as he flips through the book, rough fingers careful against the brittle yellow pages, until he finally arrives at the desired page. The writing is impossibly small and very ornate. Kisame reads the entire page intently, and then looks up at his people, cracking his knuckles in an anticipatory fashion as he begins to translate.

"Dating," he instructs, "is wholly acceptable for members of the Akatsuki. There are a good deal of guidelines, but I think that the most important one is that the intended partner of the member in question must receive official approval from each other Akatsuki member."

Deidara furrows his brow thoughtfully. "Did you guys ever approve Konan, un? She was in when I…was recruited," he says, with a dirty look at Itachi.

Kisame and Itachi had been the only members of the present company who had been in the organization long enough to remember the recruitment and subsequent approval of Konan. Itachi pales slightly, and suddenly becomes extraordinarily interested in examining a tiny chip in his nail polish.

"We approved Konan," Kisame says shortly. "After she had made Orochimaru cry hysterically by insulting his complexion, transfigured Sasori's body puppets into sock puppets, nearly killed Zetsu with her chocolate cake, forcibly fed me shark-fin soup, and had tied Itachi to a chair and French braided his hair with ribbons and bows."

Itachi shudders at the mere memory.

"French braids with fucking ribbons and bows?" asks Hidan, aghast.

"I was thirteen," is the only explanation he gets in return.

"So that means Sakura-san _can_ go out with Itachi-san!" Tobi exclaims gleefully. "She's really nice and pretty and gives good hugs – _I _approve of her."

Deidara snorts, amused. "I would love to deny Itachi his happiness by disapproving her, but I have to admit that she would be a blast to paint, un," he acknowledges. "_And_ she nearly castrated Hidan with a pen, which takes…skill. Plus, she's demented, which means that she and the Uchiha should get along just fine. The kunoichi has my approval."

Kisame nods his agreement. "I know somebody would have to be truly special to capture Itachi's attention," he says, in what Itachi thinks is a far too soppy and emotional manner. "I trust his judgment fully. And," he adds, as an afterthought. "I speak for Leader-sama, Konan, and Zetsu in that they would approve of her as well."

"Can you do that, un?" Deidara wonders.

Hidan snorts mirthlessly. "Konan and this Sakura chick sound deranged enough to be fucking best friends, so Leader-sama would probably approve as well. And Zetsu doesn't really give a damn either way. Incidentally," he glares at Itachi. "_I _haven't approved of her yet. And I won't until we settle a score."

"Why?" Tobi asks immediately, worried for the safety of his newfound best friend.

"She fucking stabbed me in the testicles with a pen!" howls Hidan. "That's grounds for a score if I ever saw one!" He stands up, practically twitching with his ill temper. "No matter what you hear – don't come upstairs, until the hour's up, or I'll rip your intestines out and feed them to you, one by fucking one."

With that ominous statement, he storms away, cracking his knuckles and invoking the mighty wrath of Jashin-sama.

"Kisame-san," Tobi says at last. "I think he broke the 'no hurtful language' rule."

"Not to mention the 'no death threats' rule, un," Deidara completes.

"I'll give him two demerits," Kisame assures. "And Konan will take away one of his gold stars when she gets back." He gives his partner a worried look. "Itachi, are you – quite alright?"

Itachi braces his head on his steepled fingers patiently. "I am fine, Kisame; merely counting the seconds until Hidan starts screaming."

-

The screaming starts exactly two minutes later and continues for a very, very long time. It is so traumatizing that Tobi covers his ears and has to sing loudly to himself, Deidara is nearly overcome by giggling fits, Kisame paces back and forth and drinks Vitamin Water agitatedly, and Itachi merely listens, smirking to himself.

-

Fifty-five minutes later, Hidan staggers downstairs; bloody, bruised, and beaten. The rest of Akatsuki stares at him, stunned, and he flings himself back down at the round table irritably. "Fucking kunoichi really did cuss me out," he growls.

Deidara, who has been the subject of Hidan's infamous cussing-outs too many times to count, gapes wordlessly in shock that such a thing is even possible – from a petite little pink-haired, green-eyed kunoichi, at that.

"I guess I approve," Hidan mutters resentfully.

"Yay!" cheers Tobi, and starts clapping.

Itachi blinks once. "Kisame."

"Yes?"

"You owe me a bottle of vitamin water."

"…Damn."

"Okay, un," Deidara declares, banging once on the table for emphasis. "Now, the planning begins."

"Planning?" Itachi asks, sounding somewhat worried.

"You can't carry an unrequited torch of flaming, burning passion for her, un!" Deidara exclaims, shocked. "That kind of shit only works in poetry, and life isn't poetry, Uchiha!" He gets up and paces around the table.

"You surely are not suggesting that I express my interest – if there were any such interest, which there isn't – _verbally_, are you?" Itachi asks, scandalized at the very concept.

"Aha, so he admits it," Kisame whispers to Tobi, who nods rapidly.

Deidara smirks, enjoying his assumed sense of superiority over the socially challenged Uchiha. "Of course not! That is…mundane, un."

Itachi folds his arms and glares, at the end of his metaphorical tether. "Stop talking in riddles."

"Fine." Deidara smiles in a rather diabolical fashion, and gestures to Tobi, Kisame, Hidan – and himself. "Welcome to Courtship 101, un. These will be your teachers. And your lessons begin…now."

They are the same idiots he has worked with for a good chunk of his life, but right at this particular moment, Itachi is very hard pressed to hide his shiver of apprehension.

* * *

Poor Itachi. D: He's in for it now…

Feedback appreciated!


	4. Iron Chef: Akatsuki Edition

_You guys are awesome. :)_

-

"Now, Itachi-san, I'm not saying that you aren't _nice._" Tobi paces around the kitchen agitatedly, wondering how to word his language in a way that will not hurt his comrade's delicate feelings. "You're very nice! You're one of the nicest people I know, actually! It's just that you can be kind of – intimidating. Sometimes."

Itachi listens to Tobi expressionlessly, before killing a nearby ant with one twitch of his eye.

"Kid just doesn't get the fucking point, does he?" Hidan whispers to Kisame from the sidelines.

Tobi grabs a nearby chair and flings himself into it, so that his mask is about an inch away from Itachi's nose. "Deidara-senpai says that Sakura-san thinks that you're a psychopathic clan-killing mass murderer who's the number one enemy of her village…right?"

"Correct," Itachi replies tonelessly, while trying to move his chair away from him as discreetly as possible.

As customary, Tobi fails to take the social cue, and reaches forward to pat Itachi on the shoulder in a brotherly fashion. "Personally, _we_ have no problem with that, right, guys?"

Deidara sneers. "My problem with the Uchiha is that he's a jackass with no sense of artistic appreciation or talent, not that he's a psychopathic clan-killing mass murderer, un."

"Yeah, I fucking _love_ you, little red-eye," Hidan drawls sardonically.

Kisame says nothing, but discreetly shows Itachi his half of their "best friend" necklace.

Tobi actually wipes a tear from the corner of his eye. "That is wonderful testimony!" He beams around at the kitchen. "Group hug?"

Despite his deep-seated feeling of extreme revulsion, Itachi manages to pick up the nearest steak knife without Tobi noticing.

"…Eh, we'll pass on that," Kisame croaks. Hidan and Deidara nod frantically in assent.

Itachi smirks and replaces the steak knife to its original location.

"Anyway!" Tobi clears his throat, and regards the Uchiha prodigy thoughtfully. "While _we,_ as open-minded and accepting individuals, have no problem whatsoever with your past…Sakura-san might consider it as a reason to be afraid and uneasy in your presence." He frowns. "And _that_ is not conducive to romance in the least!"

Hidan looks dismayed.

"So, our task is to make you a bit more – personable!" Tobi says, clapping his hands together in a businesslike fashion. "Realistic! Humanitarian! Tangible! Articulate! Nice!"

It takes a few moments for Itachi to fully absorb the depth and seriousness of his current predicament, but when he speaks, he chooses to address only one of the unjust charges. "I believe that I am one of the most articulate individuals within this organization. My grammar, enunciation, and diversity in word choice are unparalleled."

"Holy shit, un, that was like…two decently-sized sentences!" Deidara gasps, before turning to Kisame. "Record?"

"No, I think he managed three sentences once, when I first met him."

"Damn, un."

"I think swirly-face over there meant the ability to not talk like a fucking robot, little red-eye," Hidan clarifies helpfully.

Itachi fights the urge to take hold of the steak knife again. "I do not have conjunctivitis. And I am most certainly not _little_."

Tobi waves his arms, trying to restore some order. "Never mind! What I am trying to say is that if you make Sakura-san come to trust and like you as a person, despite her current idea of you as a psychopathic clan-killing mass-murderer, she will eventually see other facets to your personality that she may find admirable, and, well, you know the rest!"

As Itachi is completely unfamiliar with the barest concept of romance, he does not, in fact, know _the rest_, but something tells him that having Tobi explain it to him would just cause a massive and unnecessary headache.

"Where do you come up with this shit, anyway?" Hidan asks incredulously.

"He stays up all night watching _ANBU Romance_ sometimes, un," Deidara whispers.

"But I do not wish for Sakura to trust and like me as a person," Itachi says inconsequentially.

"Of course you do, silly," Tobi beams. "Everybody needs love!"

The Uchiha frowns – obviously, his youngest and most eccentric teammate will not be discouraged by the customary iciness of his personality. Perhaps Tobi (and the rest of the idiots) will come around, once he proves himself a complete and utter lost cause. "…Very well. How, exactly, do you propose that I become more – realistic, humanitarian, tangible, _nice_, trust-worthy, and admirable?"

Tobi opens and closes his mouth, momentarily stumped, and looks around to his comrades for suggestions. Itachi arches an eyebrow, thoroughly satisfied with himself.

"Nice. Itachi." Deidara gives a heartfelt shudder. "Does not compute, un."

Hidan cannot reply, as he is too busy laughing hysterically at the very thought of it.

"It's lunchtime!" Kisame exclaims, having suddenly been struck with a spectacular idea.

"Now, now, Kisame-san, finding a solution to Itachi-san's romantic problems is more important than lunchtime," Tobi replies sternly.

Itachi fights the urge to slam his head down onto the table; needless to say, he never thought that his name and any derivative of the term _romance_ would ever be used in the same sentence. Ever.

"No! I mean, yes!" Kisame stands up, suddenly animated, and points at his partner. "You cook for people when you care about them, yes?"

"No," Deidara, Hidan, and Itachi chorus simultaneously.

The shark-man scowls, determined to get his point across. "In a _normal_ environment, as in, one that isn't populated by seven homicidal males…and Konan…you cook for people when you care about them – right?"

"…Right."

"Where are you going with this, un?" Deidara inquires, as he spoon-feeds the mouth on his hand a small serving of Itachi's leftover breakfast waffles.

"It's lunchtime," Kisame reiterates. "The kunoichi needs to eat. And – apparently she has an adversity to Deidara's ramen."

"What the hell, un?" Deidara yelps. "My ramen is perfectly delicious! The garnishings of clay add _flavor_!"

Behind him, Hidan pantomimes the act of projectile vomiting.

"Therefore," Kisame continues doggedly. "If you, Itachi, ask her what she would like for lunch, and then take the trouble to prepare it, I am sure it would go a considerable way toward alleviating your cruel and uncaring image."

Itachi regards his partner incredulously. "Does the best friend necklace mean _nothing_ to you?"

Kisame shrugs apologetically. "You'll thank me in a few years."

"Okay, then!" Tobi stands up and strikes an action-ready pose. "Let us begin!"

Itachi glares at his unbecomingly cheerful tutor, his bad mood having transitioned to positively ornery, thanks to his traitorous partner. "If I refuse?"

"Don't make us vote on this, un," Deidara warns. "Now, shall we go upstairs and do this in person, or should we send a letter?"

"Letter," Itachi replies immediately.

Tobi looks off into the distance thoughtfully. "Allow me to respectfully disagree, Itachi-san; I think it would be a lot more powerful if we do it in person. Actually," he adds, "_you're_ going to do it in person! We will just wait downstairs and aid you in the culinary process."

"…I despise all of you a great deal."

Kisame waves good-bye at Itachi as Tobi ushers him out of the kitchen and up the staircase, quite unconcerned by his partner's proclamation. "Good luck!"

-

Itachi does not believe in the usage of profanity; unlike Hidan, he believes that vulgar language is the indication of a weak mind. However, he finds it within himself to curse his all of his fellow Akatsuki members to oblivion in three different languages – two of them ancient and long since obsolete – as he proceeds up the staircase and toward the kunoichi's room.

Once he arrives at his intended destination, he flattens himself against the wall directly opposite it, before flinging a shuriken at the door. It embeds itself in the solid oak with an echoing thud, and he has the satisfaction of hearing a startled shriek at the other end of the door.

Haruno Sakura flings said door open, looking ready to do battle. "You're the one who ran out of here crying after I said that your mother did a cow and that's how _you _were born, so that means I won fair and square – oh," she fairly squeaks, upon seeing exactly who she has the pleasure of addressing, and shrinks away. The Uchiha has regained some of his customary intimidation factor by donning his Akatsuki robes again, and besides, opening a door and finding herself face-to-face with _the_ most deadly shinobi of her generation is something she is hardly used to. "…You're not Hidan."

Itachi raises an eyebrow, while mentally filing away the fact that Hidan seems to be susceptible to _your mother_ jokes. "I should hope not."

It takes Sakura a few moments to recover, but it is a dignified recovery. She gestures at the shuriken that resides in her door angrily. "Is _that_ how you knock?" She smirks at him. "I wouldn't have figured you for the type to have sensitive knuckles, Uchiha."

Normally, pithy retorts are his specialty, but at this moment, Itachi is unpleasantly surprised to find that rebuttals against insults directed toward the strength of his knuckles are not his area of expertise. "Do not make the mistake of flattering yourself, kunoichi – I have no doubt that I have more strength in one fist than you have in your entire body."

Sakura snorts humorlessly. "Yeah, of course, since your little sharky friend did me the favor of leeching all the chakra out of my body and you have all these fancy chakra-suppressing seals all over the doors. Under normal circumstances? I could probably give you a run for your money – or your Dior sunglasses, as it were."

Regardless of the chaos she has brought into his life during their limited acquaintance, Itachi is forced to admit that her confidence in her abilities is admirable. He would find it a lot more amusing if he had less faith in said abilities. "Apparently," he says, a little awkwardly. "It is lunchtime."

"Yeah, and if you try to give me some more of that clay ramen, I _swear_ I'm going to cut my losses and run, regardless of the sunglasses."

Sakura tempers her words with a smile that actually isn't as menacing as the ones he has prior received at her hands. It is a _nice_ smile, and the second that Itachi realizes that, he wonders if he should just run himself through with a kunai now, lest his mind get any more traitorous. "We don't want that," he says aloud. "And that is why I am preparing lunch this afternoon."

This time, Itachi reflects that a look of openmouthed horror is unflattering on anybody – even this fascinating medic-nin. "What?" Sakura croaks. "You – _cook_?"

The Uchiha frowns at the violence of her reaction. "Of course. We all do."

"And…_you're_…making lunch today?" she presses.

Itachi debates whether to be offended at her tone. "Yes." A heartbeat of silence. "I wish to know what you would prefer to eat."

Sakura gives him a highly skeptical look. "You're very thoughtful."

"Thank you." He has the sudden mental image of Tobi dancing around the kitchen, holding up a giant placard that reads "_SUCCESS!"_

"Anyway, I enjoy lightly grilled chicken bites served with slow-cooked noodles in hoisin sauce…"

Itachi blanches slightly. His mental image is overcome by Hidan, carrying a giant placard that reads, "_OWNED, BITCH."_

"…and if you have any lemonade, I'd rather have that than your stupid Vitamin Water…"

This time, Itachi envisions a dead Kisame, with a sad-face placard taped to his chest.

"But," Sakura adds, and Itachi returns to attention, mental images forgotten. She has a rather mischievous expression on her face, one that does not bode well for him. "If you're going to cook that, then I'm going to need another pen and some more memo paper."

"…Whyever so?"

"So I can write my last will and testament, of course."

This is said with an entirely straight face, and Itachi's last mental image comprises all of his teammates, lying flat on the floor with comical Xs over their eyes.

However, to the Uchiha prodigy, this statement – which would have passed for lighthearted banter in anybody more normal – is taken as a direct challenge to his culinary proficiency. And nobody, _nobody_ challenges his proficiency in _anything_ and lives to tell the tale.

Sakura steps back a pace, upon seeing Itachi's eyes narrow to thin slits. She laughs, a little nervously. "Sorry. I know how you feel about Vitamin Water. I probably shouldn't have insulted it – augh!"

Suddenly, she and Itachi are nose-to-nose – even though her nose only comes up to his throat – and she is almost backed up against the wall. Literally. His hands grip her elbows hard, and for all her bravado, Sakura is too surprised to do anything but utter a strangled squeak. "Sakura," Itachi says, his normally silky voice roughened by an unidentifiable emotion, and, irrationally, she realizes that this is the first time he has called her by name.

Her fingers are gripping the collar of his cloak, and she gasps as her back makes sudden contact with the wall. "What—"

She hadn't known it was even possible, but Itachi is even closer now, close enough that if she leaned a fraction of an inch closer, her lips would brush the strong line of his jaw. His voice slides over each syllable with a dangerous sort of precision. "I will," he says slowly, "concoct the best lightly grilled chicken bites served with slow-cooked noodles in hoisin sauce, that you have ever had in your entire life."

At this point, Sakura is too terrified to do anything but nod. She realizes, feeling somewhat horrified, that one of his purple-painted fingernails has drifted up to her face, and he brushes a stray strand of hair out of her eyes with surprising gentleness. "And," Itachi continues, his eyes never leaving hers. "I will personally ensure that Tobi squeezes the best lemons into your Vitamin Water."

"Okay," Sakura manages to squeak, wondering if it is, indeed, medically possible to die of fright.

In the next second, Itachi is gone, swirling out of the room and down the hallway, his customary menacing aura heightened to a whole new level. Sakura collapses onto the floor bonelessly.

-

Itachi is almost at the staircase when the splinter-laden shuriken almost connects with his neck; despite his single-minded focus on preparing lightly grilled chicken bites served with slow-cooked noodles in hoisin sauce – and figuring out what the hell hoisin sauce _is_ – he still is in full possession of his customary agility. With one deft movement, the shuriken buries itself in the wall instead.

By the time he turns around, Sakura has dashed back into her room and locked it from the inside. "Take that, you creepy weirdo!" she yells, her voice muffled by distance and the heavy door.

Itachi stands, stock-still, for a full minute. Inexplicably enough, for the first time since he had turned two years of age, a little more than twenty years ago now, he is struck with a powerful urge to curl up in a ball and cry.

-

Deidara is lounging on the kitchen table, as usual eschewing the usage of perfectly serviceable chairs, when a noticeable spike in the aura of murderousness in the room alerts him as to the arrival of his _favorite_ fellow member. "Oy! Uchiha's back, un!"

His smirk fades when he takes a good look at Itachi – despite the lack of Sharingan, the Uchiha prodigy looks a great deal more fearsome than usual. Hidan subtly crosses himself and mutters a prayer under his breath, Kisame immediately looks around for a calming bottle of Vitamin Water, Tobi hides beneath the table, and Deidara flinches, thinking that Itachi in a scary mood is definitely not artistic in the least.

"Kisame," Itachi says slowly, each word dripping poison. "I need you to go to the market and acquire chicken. Preferably, the type of chicken which is most conducive to being lightly grilled. Hidan. Find the only noodles that Deidara has not butchered with his excuse for ramen, and proceed to slow-cook it. Deidara. Bring me three lemons and one bottle of chilled Vitamin Water. And Tobi…" he hesitates momentarily, and Tobi peers up at him anxiously from under the table. "Please remove yourself from the shelter of the table, and inform me of what _hoisin sauce_ is."

A few moments of dumbfounded silence comes after this formidable list of instructions.

"Kisame?" Deidara says, out of the corner of his mouth. "Record, un?"

Kisame nods grimly. "Definitely."

Itachi crosses his arms wordlessly.

Tobi rolls out from under the table, for once, correctly reading body language, and promptly dashes away from the kitchen. "Encyclopedia Of Culinary Goodness, here I come!"

"Now," Itachi drawls, "_that_ is an efficient teammate."

"That hurts," pouts Kisame.

Hidan gives Itachi the evil eye. "Who died and made you the fucking Leader, little red-eye?"

Itachi advances on him, glowering menacingly. "Nobody has died…yet."

"Goddamn, fine, I'll get your fucking noodles," Hidan sulks, heading to the refrigerator.

Kisame salutes him with a fond look before disappearing, presumably in search for the chicken. "Little Itachi, all grown up and leading Akatsuki…"

Deidara fights the urge to vomit, as Itachi turns and fixes his expressionless gaze on him. The artist lifts his hands defensively. "I'm not picking from Zetsu's gardens myself, un. You're coming with."

Itachi sighs deeply. "…Fine."

-

In the end, it takes three hours of blood, sweat, and tears, to produce Sakura's plate of lightly grilled chicken bites served with slow-cooked noodles in hoisin sauce.

Itachi learns that using Ameterasu on a cut of chicken breast does not result in lightly grilled chicken bites; rather, severely charred chicken chunks. Hidan learns that slowly cooking noodles is a hell of a lot harder than it sounds. Deidara learns that Zetsu's lemon plants bite. Kisame learns that going to market when one is a seven-foot-tall blue shark-man is severely overrated.

And Tobi helps all of them learn that hoisin sauce is, actually, a Chinese dipping sauce made out of water, sugar, soybeans, white distilled vinegar, rice, salt, wheat flour, garlic, and red chili peppers, and several preservatives and coloring agents.

"Fuck," Hidan groans, from his place on the floor. "If I _ever_ see a fucking noodle again, I will vomit."

Deidara shivers and trembles in the corner of the kitchen, throwing severely distressed looks at the glass of lemon-infused Vitamin Water that sits on the counter.

Tobi giggles and inhales the open bottle of hoisin sauce.

Kisame eats Frosted Flakes, trying his best to forget the horrors of being hit repeatedly by old ladies wielding umbrellas.

Itachi takes the steaming plate in one hand, the glass of vitamin-water-turned-lemonade in the other, and manages to balance everything perfectly, while regarding his teammates; all of whom have undergone various amounts of trauma in the past three hours, thanks to him. Then he mumbles something and then fairly runs up the stairs.

Kisame ceases to nurse his bruises, and looks up incredulously. "Did he say—"

"No way, un," Deidara mumbles wearily, while attempting to prevent his blood from dripping on Leader-sama's favorite rug.

-

This time, as Itachi's hands are full, he has to resort to kicking the door in order to inform Sakura of his presence.

She answers cautiously, fully aware that the last time she had spoken to this questionable man, she had thrown a shuriken at his head with murderous intent and called him a _creepy weirdo._

Itachi holds the plate and glass out at her expressionlessly. "Lightly grilled chicken bites served with slow-cooked noodles in hoisin sauce, along with lemon-laced Vitamin Water."

Sakura tries her best not to stare, astonished, at the impeccably prepared plate of her favorite food. Remembering her manners, she reaches out and takes the plate and glass from him. "Thank you."

Itachi makes no move to leave; instead, he leans against the side of the doorframe, so that his ponytail slips over one shoulder, and continues to watch her. "…You should sample it," he says at last.

The kunoichi takes the food over to the chair and dresser, careful to keep her gaze on him, lest he pounce on her again. "Would you care to sit?" she asks, somewhat unaccustomed to being watched with an eagle eye while eating.

Itachi does not reply, and merely steps within the room and takes a seat on the bed, observing Sakura – when she is not castrating men with pens, or flinging shuriken at people's heads while insulting them, her manners are flawless. She takes a delicate bite of the noodles, chews them for nearly half a minute, and then swallows.

Sakura is obviously taking a page from his book, keeping her face carefully expressionless. But at last, she looks up at him and smiles. "It's good. And I can't taste any poison."

Itachi raises an eyebrow, rising to join her. "Good?"

Two can play that game, and instead of recoiling, Sakura takes a challenging step forward. "Acceptable."

Itachi matches her, toe-to-toe. "Really?"

His voice has taken on a slightly different tone, subtly laced with humor, and Sakura allows herself to think that if it were anybody else, she would suspect them of teasing her. "No," she relents. "It's actually quite excellent."

"I am glad you think so." Upon receiving what he came for, Itachi retreats to the doorway again. "By the way, if you taste any blood in the lemonade, it is just Deidara's. Luckily, idiocy is not transmitted by contact with bodily fluids, so you should be fine."

On that cryptic note, he disappears into the hallway again, leaving Sakura with a glass of suspicious lemonade, a delicious plate of lightly grilled chicken bites served with slow-cooked noodles in hoisin sauce – and feeling very, very puzzled.

-

When Itachi returns downstairs, he looks highly pleased with himself.

"_Well_?" Kisame demands.

"Well, what?" Itachi returns serenely, before taking his place in his favorite armchair.

Deidara flings a pillow at him. "You know what, un!"

"He's not fucking dead," Hidan interjects pragmatically. "So she must have at least thought it was passable."

"Actually," Itachi throws the pillow back at Deidara. "It was deemed…quite excellent."

Tobi cheers, setting aside the bottle of hoisin sauce. "Success!" He throws his arms around Itachi's leg and nuzzles his knee, much to his horror. "Step one has been completed!"

Itachi winces and attempts to extricate himself, in vain. "Thank you," he says at last.

These two words are addressed to the Tiffany lamp in the corner, and there are a few moments where Hidan, Kisame, Deidara, and Tobi all look around, confused. When they finally piece it together, there is much widespread rejoicing.

"Aww," Tobi coos. "See, Deidara-senpai, I _told_ you that he really does love us!"

"Fuckin' A, it's a miracle," Hidan exults, clutching his handy Jashin-sama idol.

Deidara leans back, smirking. "Who started all of this, un? Yes, that's right, I did. So, Uchiha, when you decide to use your massive amounts of wealth to build a statue in my honor, get back to me then."

Itachi chooses not to reply to this witticism, instead tilting his head back to look at his partner. "Kisame, you are awfully quiet."

The shark-man looks up, and offers him a decidedly worrying smile. "Now that the groundwork has been set, I was just considering Phase Two."

"…Phase Two? There is a _Phase Two_?"

"Well, duh, un," Deidara frowns. "This is just the beginning."

Itachi buries his head in his hands, trying his level best to restrain himself from begging somebody to finish him off right here and now.

* * *

Discreetly, Deidara and Kisame exchange high-fives.

Feedback appreciated! :)


	5. In Pursuit Of Glorified Vegetation

_Thank you guys so much for reading, and for your wonderful feedback. :) Lyrics at the beginning are copyright of Natasha Bedingfield's single "Angel." _

_-_

Hidan stands in the midst of the darkened lair that serves as the Akatsuki 'family room', slowly dying a horrible and agonizingly painful death.

"Let me guess," Itachi says tonelessly. "You are dying a slow, horrible, and agonizingly painful death."

Hidan cracks an eye open. "You fucking _suck_ at this game, little red-eye."

"No, un," Deidara replies, coming to the Uchiha's defense for once, "you just pick weird things to do charades with."

"Help us out please, Hidan-san?" Tobi pleads.

Hidan closes his eyes again, looking very world-weary. When he speaks, it isn't in words per say_,_ but a high, clear, beautiful melody. "If I could be your angel, your angel, your _angel,_ protect you from the pain, I'll keep you safe from danger; you'll never hurt again, no more. I'll be your _A-N-G-E-L_—"

"No more!" Kisame yells, his hands covering his ears.

Itachi shakes his head disapprovingly. "Any musical endeavor that has to resort to spelling words in the midst of the chorus is just…mediocre."

"Fuckers," Hidan mutters, before deflating considerably and retreating to his corner so that he may sulk in private.

"Now, now, guys, let's be positive," Tobi admonishes. "Hidan-san did a lovely job!"

"Okay, un," Deidara says, clapping his hands; the mouth on one hand catches the sleeve of his robe on the other arm, and the act of yanking them apart causes him to, inadvertently, almost smack Kisame upside the head. "Uchiha! I just had a fantastic and highly artistic idea, un!"

"…No."

"But you don't even know what I'm going to say, un!" Deidara protests, injured.

"…I have an excellent idea of what you are going to suggest, and I refuse."

"But _still,_ un!"

"Aww, just let him speak, Itachi," Kisame interjects sensibly.

"One of these days, I am going to take your necklace away," Itachi mutters, and Kisame blanches.

"You should _sing_ to Sakura, un!" Deidara chips in, looking far too pleased with himself.

"I knew it. And my answer is still no."

Tobi bounces on his beanbag. "Itachi-san, it would be cute!"

Itachi gives Tobi a scathing look. "I despise all things _cute_ with a passion." He pronounces the innocent little word as if it were the most vitriolic and offensive of Hidan's vast range of profanities. "Therefore, I do not intend to ever perform an action that could possibly be labeled as _cute._"

"Not even in the pursuit of love, un?" Deidara asks slyly.

The Uchiha considers this for a brief moment. "No. Not in the pursuit of something so frivolous and unnecessary. Actually, not ever. It would be blatantly out of my normal character to do so."

"You did a hell of a job raising that one," Hidan mutters to Kisame, who nods in agreement.

"Fine, un; Tobi, scratch _midnight serenade_ off the list."

Upon this order from Deidara-senpai, Tobi obediently withdraws a rather long and battered list (written on flowery paper typically used for wedding invitations, no less) from the inner recesses of his cloak, and scans the contents intently. "Aye aye, Deidara-senpai! There it is…number twenty-six." He picks up a discarded sparkly purple gel pen and scratches through said item several times.

Itachi looks on, feeling vaguely horrified. "You are in possession of a _list_?"

"We are, after all, a highly respected criminal organization," Kisame points out. "Excellent organization is partly how we got to where we are."

For the first time, Itachi wishes that he were in possession of the Byakugan, as craning his neck to attempt to view the contents of said list would be highly undignified. Just in case, Tobi rolls up the list rapidly, and stuffs it back into his cloak. "Don't look, Itachi-san," he chides. "It's going to be a surprise!"

Itachi glowers. "I detest surprises."

"No need to remind us, un," Deidara mumbles. "I remember your eighteenth birthday party."

There is a collective shudder at the memory.

Riding in on the dramatic impact of the moment, a neatly folded sheet of memo paper flutters slowly through the air, and comes to rest squarely on Itachi's head.

Deidara chokes with laughter, spraying a good deal of Vitamin Water on Tobi's head. "Second time in a row, un! That Sakura chick has amazing aim."

Expressionlessly, Itachi removes the offending piece of paper and spreads it out on the nearest table, in a rare moment of consideration. There is a slight flurry of moment as everybody gathers around it, so that they may read it better.

_Dear Akatsuki,_

_Since you obviously intend on holding me captive until I can fix 'little red-eye's' vision, I figured that I'm entitled to some rights and privileges as a prisoner. One of these would be the right to decent food – which is much better, as the last meal I had was delicious, unlike that festering clay ramen crap—_

At this point, Deidara has to cease reading it aloud for his teammates' benefit, as his eyes threaten to fill with tears. Tobi pats him on the back consolingly. "It's okay, Deidara-senpai! I like your ramen."

"Fuckin' A, I actually agree with the irate kunoichi on that one," Hidan whispers, astounded.

_Anyway. Due to the long hours in which I have languished within my prison, extensive survey of the lands surrounding this area have informed me that we are likely in a location somewhat close to the border near Sound. Unsurprising, as this location is infamous for being a festering pit of evil—_

"It's actually really good real estate," Kisame clarifies, feeling rather accomplished. "I helped Leader-sama pick it out!"

"I'm sure you're really proud of yourself, un," Deidara snarks.

—_It is also notable for being one of the three locations where one is able to harvest essence of dittany from the Stone Mint plant—_

"Essence of dittany, what the fuck?" Hidan asks blankly.

"Essence of dittany; commonly used as an alternative ingredient to freshly picked nightshade blossoms in medical antidotes for poisons targeting the internal organs," Itachi recites, from memory.

A few moments of silence greet this spectacular display of knowledge of obscure medical terms. Kisame pats his partner on the shoulder self-consciously. "Maybe you should spend more time watching _ANBU Romance_ with us instead of spending all that time cooped up in our room…"

—_And since I am being forced to stay here, I might as well get something constructive done during this…enforced vacation, as you will. I highly doubt you would let me leave the premises for a couple of hours to harvest a hundred specimens of the Stone Mint plant, but I figured that it would be worth asking. _

_Cordially,_

_Sakura. _

_P.S: I would greatly appreciate it if somebody gave Tobi a hug from me. _

At this point, Deidara stops reading, an expression of distaste marring his features as he watches Tobi fairly giggle with excitement at the thought of an impending hug – much to his dismay, upon his recruitment, he discovered that his new friends were not, indeed, very huggy people.

"Don't look at me," Kisame says defensively. "Deidara, you're his partner."

"Hugging is strictly against my religion," Hidan declaims, backing away, just in case.

Deidara scowls. "Uchiha! As Tobi was your tutor for your first courtship lesson, un, you have to hug him as an expression of your deep gratitude."

Itachi scowls back, taking care to make sure that his scowl is at least three times more vitriolic. "I have to do no such thing. I do not believe in the concept of – _hugging._"

"Ooh, Hidan-san," Tobi whispers to Hidan ecstatically. "I think they're fighting over me!"

Upon hearing this spectacular piece of ludicrousness, Deidara rolls his eyes exaggeratedly and leans over and hugs his partner, making sure to make the hug as manly as possible – with very little actual body contact, and a great deal of enthusiastic patting of the back – before withdrawing sullenly, his mood helped little by the smirk on Itachi's face.

"I don't think that was a very valid hug," Hidan offers. "The kunoichi would probably give swirly-face a girly hug."

Itachi frowns. "Girly hug?"

"Full body contact, clinging, all that shit."

"It's okay," Deidara interrupts hastily, before Tobi can get any ideas. "Tobi, just pretend that was from Sakura, un?"

Tobi beams, fairly twirling in his happiness. "It's like being hugged by you and Sakura-san at the same time! Double the fun!"

Itachi sighs deeply, while thanking the gods that, luckily, the rest of the world has no idea what the most prominent terrorist organization is like, behind closed doors.

"How the fuck did he get in, anyway?" Hidan asks incredulously.

Itachi pales a little; in an attempt to derail the conversation from the dangerous path it is headed toward, he clears his throat authoritatively and picks up the letter between two of his fingers. "It would be courteous for us to reply to this missive first."

"Yes!" Deidara crows, before pulling out his most high-quality artistic pen and a handy sheet of Akatsuki memo paper. "The Official Head Of The Official Department Of Letters To Be Written To Prisoners to the rescue, un!"

"Buddha save us," mutters Kisame.

_Dear Sakura,_

Deidara pauses prematurely, looking around at his comrades. "Wait, we _aren't_ going to let her go alone, right?"

"Of course not," Tobi pouts. "She may run away."

Hidan gives Itachi a significant look. "I wonder why."

Deidara bends down and begins to write again, his long curtain of blonde hair obscuring the paper. From his unfortunate angle, Itachi is thoroughly unable to see, and he glares at the resident artist venomously.

"Stop that, Uchiha, I can feel it burning through my hair, un."

"Let me see it."

"Hold on, un." With a few more deft scribbles, Deidara concludes the letter, neatly folds the letter into a paper swan, and flicks it at Itachi. He catches it with ease, unfolds the complicated creases distastefully, and begins to read, while taking hold of his nearby glass of Vitamin Water – just in case.

_Dear Sakura,_

_This is actually a wonderful place! When you return to your happy and undoubtedly mundane village, I bet you're going to remember your little vacation with the Akatsuki very fondly indeed. Oh, also, Kisame would like to say that our Headquarters may be located within a notorious cesspool of evil, but it's also really great real estate. But if you think that us being located near Sound is too predictable, then I'm sure you could write to the Leader and make some alternate suggestions. He would appreciate that. _

_Anyway. Regarding your little plant…thingy. You're right, we would have to be crazy to let you gallivant about the country on your own. You'd probably run right away, and then we could never fix Little Red-Eye's vision. Which would be sad…I guess. However, since you seem to really want to go get your plant, after a good deal of sage and wise discussion, we as an organization have decided that you may go this evening, but only if you are supervised by one of our members. We chose Itachi. So…yeah. Write back if you have any comments, questions, or concerns. _

_Cheers! _

_Deidara _

_(and the rest of Akatsuki)_

_P.S: I hugged Tobi for you. He's disgustingly happy. If you ever ask any of us to do something so horrible again, I'll force feed you some of my "festering clay ramen." _

Itachi chokes on his Vitamin Water. "What—"

"Yeah, I know, I'm nice, un." Deidara nearly preens with accomplishment. "Just think of it! You, Sakura, alone, harvesting mint! It's like the most romantic thing ever, un!"

"I do not," Itachi says dangerously, wishing heartily that he had not been forbidden to use his Sharingan during the course of the healing, "wish to be alone with Sakura while harvesting glorified vegetation."

"Too fucking bad," Hidan says pragmatically.

"Kisame," Itachi spins around, appealing to his best friend. "Can you not go?"

"Poor Itachi-san is distressed," Tobi points out. "Perhaps you should go, Kisame-san, or you, Deidara-san – you could put in a kind word for him!"

Kisame snorts, to hide his laughter. "Yes, because Deidara would be the most trustworthy person, regarding putting in a _kind word_ for Itachi."

Deidara cracks his knuckles, smiling evilly. "Of course, of course."

"Never mind," Itachi says hastily. "I'll go."

"Owned," Hidan mutters.

Meanwhile, Deidara clambers up onto the coffee table, which groans in protest; by stretching up on the very tips of his toes, he just barely manages to wedge the letter up through the floorboards, into Sakura's room. Tobi applauds. "How resilient of you, Deidara-senpai!"

Deidara shoots Kisame the evil eye. "Last time I trusted Bruce over there to lift me up to the ceiling, I almost broke my leg, un."

They sit in rare silence for no less than two minutes, before another sheet of memo paper fairly whizzes through the air, obviously forced through the floorboards at great speed. Itachi dodges quickly, and it lands, open, on the coffee table.

_Dear Akatsuki,_

_NOT HIM, PLEASE. _

_P.S: If you had the fundamental human decency to let me out of my prison once in a while, I could hug Tobi myself._

Itachi wilts a little. But only a little, so that it would be completely unnoticeable to the untrained eye. Kisame reaches over and pats his hand sympathetically.

Deidara grabs the pen again, and writes back a single-word reply.

_Dear Sakura,_

_Why?_

_P.S: If we let you downstairs, you would try and kill all of us. We're not stupid._

Almost as soon as he manages to stuff the letter up the floorboards, the artist only has time to collapse back onto his armchair, by the time the next one flutters back down.

_Dear Akatsuki,_

_He's a creepy weirdo. Do you have anyone else? _

_P.S: You guys know me too well. _

"Chin up, Itachi," Kisame urges. "Here, drink some Vitamin Water."

Deidara furrows his brow, thoughtful. "Time for serious damage control, un."

_Dear Sakura,_

_Don't worry, it'll be fun! Besides, Hidan thinks flower picking is gay, Kisame has allergies, I have to make dinner, and if we let you and Tobi out together, you guys would probably both make daisy chains and skip and frolic all the way back to Konoha before he even realized something was amiss. Itachi's actually a really, really nice guy, though—_

(Deidara nearly physically gags while writing said sentence, while Itachi smirks, highly satisfied with himself)

—_and he doesn't bite. But if he does, it only means that he really, really likes you._

_Cheers!_

_Deidara, and everyone else too._

_P.S: Tobi sends hugs; Hidan would like to send a kunai to the throat. I think Tobi's is more socially acceptable, though. Don't tell anyone I said this, but Itachi looks kinda sad. _

The letter is sent to Sakura in the customary format, and after another two minutes, they receive their reply.

_Dear Akatsuki, _

…_Fine. We should start around sunset, because that's when the mint's best. _

_P.S: I accept the hugs with joy. Tell Hidan I know the truth about his parentage. And, fine, tell Itachi that I would be happy to gather mint with him. _

Tobi squeals happily and hugs himself. Unbeknownst to everyone else, Hidan's eyes fill up with tears.

Kisame elbows Itachi lightly. "Aww, she's happy to gather mint with you!"

"Merriment and joy and fluffy kittens," Itachi says, in his customary deadpan.

Deidara stands up, suddenly businesslike. "Okay, un; Uchiha, it's crunch time."

"…What is this _crunch time_ that you speak of?" Itachi asks, sounding somewhat apprehensive.

"This," Deidara brandishes his pen dramatically, "is going to be like your first date, un."

"Cool your jets, Sparky," Kisame rolls his eyes. "They're not even going out yet."

"_Yes, _un, but this is your chance to make a first impression! Well, you know, a real first impression; clan-killing and best-friend menacing and kidnapping and grilled-chicken-bites-and-slow-cooked-hoisin-noodle-making aside, un. A _good_ first impression."

Itachi raises an eyebrow expressionlessly. "Are you implying that you know how to make a satisfactory first impression on those of the female persuasion?"

"_Female persuasion_?" chokes Hidan, barely able to restrain his mirth.

Deidara places his hands on his hips, summoning his best _fearless-and-sexy-artist_ pose. "Of course." Regardless of the consequences, he grabs Itachi's sleeve and tugs. "Come on, un. We're going to my room for some tutoring."

Itachi promptly kicks Deidara in the jugular.

"Fucking _denied!_" Hidan crows gleefully.

"Itachi," Kisame chides, "you forgot your breathing exercises!"

With much gasping and choking, Deidara claws himself back up into a sitting position. Flicking his disarrayed hair back into place, he tries his best to give the Uchiha a levelheaded yet haughty look. "Not like _that, _un, you freakin' closet pervert—"

"I am not," Itachi enunciates dangerously. "A _closet pervert._"

"Just go with him; he's only trying to help, after all," Kisame assures. "If you need anything, scream."

Deidara manages to drag Itachi down the hallway. "Now come on, Uchiha, you heard him. And if you ever do that weird jugular-kicky thing again, I'll blow up your room, un."

-

Three hours later, at sunset, Itachi and Deidara finally re-emerge. They are both bruised to various degrees, although Deidara rubs his fractured arm with a distinct air of satisfaction. "He's a slow learner, un," the artist declares proudly. "But I think he's got it."

Itachi merely ascends the stairs slowly, while privately resolving to never spend _any_ amount of time alone with Deidara again. Ever.

This time, he deigns to knock on Sakura's door himself – his prior experience had taught him that she could turn even a shuriken deeply embedded into the door as a lethal weapon. Almost immediately, the door swings open, and he is face-to-face with the kunoichi herself. "Why," he says dryly. "Aren't we eager?"

Sakura makes a face at him, before thrusting an over-large woven wooden basket into his hands – they had sent Tobi into Leader-sama and Konan's room, earlier, to gather some _weird girly shit,_ as Hidan had so sagely put it, for their captive. "I don't expect _you_ to understand the significance of the Stone Mint plant," she replies, in an overly sugary tone, "but this is a highly important expedition."

"Essence of dittany, extracted from the Stone Mint plant; commonly used as an alternative ingredient to freshly picked nightshade blossoms in medical antidotes for poisons targeting the internal organs," Itachi recites, for the second time that day, as they begin to proceed down the stairs. For the sake of avoiding mass horror and panic amongst his comrades, he leads her to a concealed side exit of the house.

Sakura gapes at him wordlessly, for once, surprised.

"While not wreaking havoc around the world, I enjoy perusing recreational reading material of various types and purposes."

"Ah," Sakura manages.

Stepping outside, for the first time in days, easily feels like the best thing that has ever happened to her; unable to restrain her glee, even in the presence of her captor, Sakura does two front handsprings, relishing the feeling of the moist evening grass underneath her hands. For the first time, she realizes just how isolated the Akatsuki Headquarters are – for as far as she can see, in all directions, there is nothing but grass and trees. As they navigate through the thin copse of trees, though, she can almost smell the mint fields just beyond it, which just _happens_ to lie east, in the direction of Konoha…

Itachi notices the quick, assessing movement of her gaze, and in the next moment, he is at her side, his long fingers curling, almost self-consciously, around her wrist. True, it isn't _exactly_ what Deidara had recommended, but it is as close as he can bring himself. "Don't even attempt it," he cautions.

Sakura yelps, attempting to tug free of his grip. "Ew, let go of me! I'm not going to do anything!"

Itachi considers this for a moment. "No. And if Hidan were here, he would caution you that lying is a sin."

They step into the mint fields, and Itachi is nearly assaulted by the overwhelmingly clean and fresh odor. He coughs once, ducking his head, and looks up to find Sakura smirking at him, apparently unaffected by it. "Having difficulties?" she asks sweetly.

Itachi glares right back at her. "Never." In the fading light of the setting sun, he notices something rather peculiar about her appearance, for the first time. "…How did you sustain dried bloodstains on Konan's apparel?"

Sakura looks down at the borrowed t-shirt dismissively. "Oh, those aren't bloodstains. They used to be the fruity little maroon clouds, you know? But Tobi lent me some of his black Magic Markers and I colored them over."

_Fruity little maroon clouds._ Itachi nearly chokes. "Why?"

Sakura gives him another one of her customary _why-hello-village-idiot_ glances, as she bends down and examines a shoot of mint. "As a proud shinobi of Konoha, I," she declares, "would never wear Akatsuki colors, let alone any clothes emblazoned with their insignia." She pulls the mint free, testing it with her fingers and holding it up to the dying light speculatively, before dropping it into the basket and straightening, with a smile. Much to his indignation, she pokes him in the clavicle, before turning away and continuing her search. "However, it suits _you_ quite well."

Itachi frowns at the backhanded compliment.

"One hundred specimens," Sakura calls over her shoulder. "Only the best and the most ready for harvest." She turns around, only to give him a mischievous look. "Due to your perusal of recreational reading material of various types and purposes, I trust you know what that constitutes."

Itachi raises an eyebrow. "Of course."

-

Despite his perusal of recreational reading material of various types and purposes, Itachi soon finds that it is, indeed, harder to find one hundred specimens of the best Stone Mint plants than he had previously assumed. To his chagrin, Sakura seems to have a much easier time of it than he does; she fairly waltzes to and back from the basket, holding large handfuls of mint, every five minutes.

He is trying his best to inspect one particularly large mint leaf in the sparse moonlight, when his concentration is abruptly disturbed by her taking a seat beside him. "Your nail polish," Sakura declares, waving an offending leaf in front of him, "is flaking off on them."

His first instinct is to examine his nails sharply; the chipping of nail polish is a Class Two violation of Akatsuki uniform regulations. Much to his dismay, the purple, is, indeed, flaking off at the ends. "So much for industrial strength," he mutters aloud.

Even in the dark, he can clearly see the amusement written on the kunoichi's face as she relinquishes the leaf he had been inspecting, taps it a few times, considers it, and then drops it in the basket, before picking up another one. "Why _do_ you wear nail polish, anyway?" she asks conversationally.

Itachi takes a leaf from the basket, dusting off the tiny flakes of purple nail polish that linger on its surface. "I am surprised you deign to speak with me, kunoichi," he replies at length. "I assumed that I was too _creepy_ and _weird_ for your delicate sensibilities."

"Yes, well," Sakura says unapologetically, discarding the mint leaf and picking up another. "Harvesting mint leaves is highly tedious when done in silence."

"You forget who I am – I do not exist solely for your amusement, _Sakura_."

Sakura actually laughs, which is hardly the reaction he had been aiming to elicit. "For as long as time itself," she responds serenely, while de-veining a small leaf with her fingernails. "Unlikely friendships have been formed through the act of gathering mint leaves for medical antidotes."

The entire list of pithy retorts which had been formulating on the surface of his mind suddenly dissipates.

Sakura laughs again, obviously taking note of the barely-visible consternation on his face as she tosses another leaf into the basket. "But don't get your hopes up, Uchiha Itachi."

Itachi concentrates intently on the mint leaf he holds, realizing, with a sense of dawning horror, that he may, possibly, want to smile. As a result of this highly unsettling possibility, he quickly begins summoning the most morbid and murderous thoughts that come to mind.

"Kisame," he says at last, keeping his eyes on the mint leaf, "is the most senior member of Akatsuki, besides Leader-sama. He had a – fingernail-biting problem."

Sakura winces, envisioning Kisame's shark teeth. "Ouch."

"Leader-sama finds the gnawing of fingernails to be an undignified habit. In search of a cure, he consulted his, ah – _friend_ at the time, an Amekagure kunoichi, who informed him that nail polish had a highly offensive taste, and was sure to discourage the biting of nails."

"Konan," Sakura supplies, smiling slightly.

"Yes. Leader-sama instructed Kisame to paint his fingernails, and – well, the habit stuck."

"Interesting indeed." She looks up at him, flashing a purposefully charming smile. "Any chance you'll tell me more Akatsuki history or motivations?"

Itachi smirks. "Unlikely."

"Come on," she pouts. "It's not like I can go back and tell Tsunade-shishou about the real reason you guys wear nail polish, and then somehow, we can cripple your organization from the inside by systematically shutting down all of your nail polish providers."

Despite himself, Itachi cannot help but snort. "A valid idea. Undoubtedly Leader-sama would go insane after being exposed to an organization full of nail-biters; he would likely flee, Konan would follow, in search of a cure, and the rest of us would disband and scatter to the winds, as we are too volatile and irrational to operate without the steady leadership of…the Leader."

Upon this unlikely witticism, Sakura actually shrieks and falls back, looking more unnerved than she has all night. "You…you made a joke!"

Itachi flinches distastefully at the use of the juvenile term. "Hardly. I crafted a snide witticism. There is a clear difference."

"Sure," she grins, before continuing her in-depth inspection of mint leaves. Itachi surveys her through veiled eyelashes; Sakura, he realizes, does not seem to be frightened by him in the least – something that he finds downright unsettling. He could chalk this up to sheer stupidity, but even he has to acknowledge that her degree of chakra control and medical expertise is hardly conducive to this explanation. A far likelier response is that she has inherited her mentor's reckless brand of unthinking bravery.

"So," Sakura says at last. "Tell me about yourself."

"I am not fond about talking about myself," Itachi counters. "If you intend on performing some kind of half-baked psychoanalysis, draw your own conclusions based on what you already know."

Sakura considers this for a moment and sniffs a mint leaf thoughtfully. "You're a psychopathic clan-killing mass murderer with terrible vision. Despite your status as psychopathic clan-killing mass murderer, though, you have never outright threatened or displayed your rumored sadistic cruelty to me, which leads me to believe that you may have split personality syndrome – you know, like Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde, or something. You appreciate high fashion and dislike brownies. You have highly questionable social skills, although you can cook a pretty mean plate of lightly grilled chicken bites served with slow-cooked noodles and hoisin sauce. And you have an irrational fondness for Vitamin Water." She smirks at him. "Never mind, you don't have to tell me anything more. I could practically write a book."

This time, Itachi's lips quirk up at the edges, and he looks down at his mint leaf again, in order to conceal it.

-

After about an hour or so more, in which Itachi actually engages in _idle conversation_ with the kunoichi – which is, inarguably, a Big Deal, as the only person he had ever engaged in idle conversation with previously has been Kisame – they finish harvesting their hundred specimens of mint and proceed back to Headquarters. Once again, Itachi is stuck holding the basket (and Sakura's wrist in the other hand, even though he is quick to notice that her protest, this time around, is very slightly less violent), while the kunoichi attempts to psychoanalyze his comrades, using her limited knowledge of them.

Thankfully, everybody else is occupied at the dinner table – evidenced by the screaming and hollers of "_Pass the fucking mashed potatoes, already!_" – as they make their way in, quietly, through the side entrance.

"Myself or Kisame will bring your food up shortly," Itachi tells her, somewhat awkwardly, as he passes the basket back to her outside of her door.

Sakura tilts her head, looking up at him shrewdly. "Thanks, Uchiha." She enters her room, and then turns to look back at him at the last possible second. "You know, I still think you're creepy and weird and one of the most screwed up human beings to ever walk the face of the earth."

"Why, thank you, Haruno Sakura; I do not think I have ever heard a more flattering description of myself for as long as I have lived," Itachi replies, in his customary deadpan.

Sakura laughs. "If it's any consolation, though, you're slightly less creepy and weird than I thought you were two days ago."

On this pleasant note, the door shuts behind her, leaving Itachi staring at the gouged wood where his shuriken had previously landed.

"…Charmed."

-

Upon his descent down the staircase, Itachi is faced with a formidable sight – Kisame, Hidan, Deidara, and Tobi, all lined up with their arms crossed, single-file, across the base of the stairs.

It is a sight that would give even the most stoic Konoha shinobi nightmares. Itachi glares. "Out of my way. I require sustenance."

"Not so fast, un," Deidara pokes him firmly in the chest.

"We want all the juicy details," Kisame completes.

In the background, Tobi fairly jumps up and down with excitement. "Did you guys _kiss_?"

Itachi, otherwise known as the Most Creepy, Weird, and Screwed-Up Missing-Nin Of The Year, sighs deeply.

It's going to be a long night.

* * *

Feedback appreciated!


	6. Crush

_Again, thank you so much to everyone who's been kind enough to review. :) Continuing my little soundtrack kick, for anybody who's interested, the official ItaSaku theme for this story is "I'm Yours", by Jason Mraz. It's such a sweet song, and the first time I heard it, I was just like, OMG, Itachi and Sakura. It works perfectly for the whole mint-picking deal last chapter, and their interactions in general. Speaking of the mint-picking – that scene was taken and slightly modified from my other ItaSaku fic, Disturbia. Another scene, coming this chapter, is also going to be taken and modified from said fic, so yeah. Public service announcement over; let the story commence. _

-

"Okay, un," Deidara picks up the steak knife almost delicately, and spins it through his fingers, before taking one step toward Itachi. "I promise this won't hurt."

"Is it even possible to stab someone in the eyes gently?" Kisame asks, addressing the highly relevant query to the general populace.

Tobi shrugs. "I didn't think so, but if anybody could do it, it is the esteemed Deidara-senpai!"

"Nobody," Itachi says tonelessly, "is going to stab anybody in the eyes." He removes the Dior sunglasses – always a gesture indicating the utmost seriousness – and fixes a glare on the advancing artist. "Come any closer and I will introduce your internal organs to the floor."

"You better not," Hidan growls ominously. "It took fucking _ages_ to clean up all of Tobi's crap from his little pansy-ass _arts and crafts_ project."

Deidara drops the steak knife back on the kitchen table, alarmed. "Jeez, Uchiha, you just can't take a joke, un."

"It was in very poor taste," sniffs Itachi.

"Well, I wouldn't have had to make that joke in the first place if you could have just gotten the kunoichi to fall in love with you already, un!" Deidara retorts indignantly. "It's been a week of our best efforts and _no_ results, un!"

"Well," Kisame points out, as usual acting as the sole voice of reason. "She _does_ call him Itachi sometimes, which is an improvement over _Uchiha,_ and a definite improvement over just looking at him with a deep shudder of hatred."

"Oh, fuck me," Deidara grouses, flopping onto the table.

Itachi takes a distinctly irritable sip of his Vitamin Water. "I would prefer to refrain from such an odious act. Also, it is imperative that we keep realistic expectations regarding this, ah – twisted little _endeavor_ of yours. It is sheer foolishness to assume that Sakura would 'fall in love' with me within a week and a half of captivity—"

"Yeah, she'd have to be completely fucking insane," Hidan replies, nodding his agreement.

Tobi flops back on his beanbag, sighing. "I just wish you had more time to win Sakura-san's heart, Itachi-san."

"Which is where the whole stabbing him in the eyes thing comes into play, un," Deidara points out helpfully. "According to little red-eye over there, there's just one more healing session before his eyes are fixed, and we can't honorably keep her after that, un."

"The same principle would apply if I stabbed you four hundred and thirty-seven times with a blunt butter knife," Itachi deadpans. "Her honor as a medic would obligate her to stay and tend to you."

He closes his eyes for a moment; his vision and sensitivity to light have been greatly improved by her healing, but there are still a good deal of adjustments to go. When he opens his eyes again, he can see his teammates staring at him with various measures of horror written on their faces. "Ooh, Itachi-san made a joke!" Tobi squeals, quite taken with the sheer novelty of such an occurrence.

Itachi flinches. "Snide witticism."

"How many has that been in the past week, un?" Deidara asks, wide-eyed.

Kisame thinks momentarily. "Five."

"That's it, little red-eye," Hidan pronounces, pointing at Itachi. "The irate kunoichi is a fucking _negative_ influence on you."

"I am aware," Itachi drawls, bored. "As a matter of fact, I am currently at high risk of dying my hair bright pink and turning myself in to Konoha while begging for redemption and offering them my unwavering loyalty, in return for the privilege of nursing grievously injured persons back to health with my tender and loving care."

Silence greets this extraordinary proclamation.

"Really?" Tobi asks, shocked.

"…No."

"Don't do that ever again," Kisame shudders. "It's just not right."

"Enough with the snide witticisms, already, un!" Deidara exclaims, waving his hands in a distressed fashion. "We need to do some hardcore planning here!" There is a disturbingly analytical look in the sole blue eye not curtained by the formidable mass of hair. "Uchiha, does Sakura have any idea that you like her, un?"

"No," Itachi replies, sounding incongruously grateful for this small fact.

Deidara buries his head in his hands. "Not in the _least_, un? Not even a sneaking suspicion?"

"Does the naturally mysterious and inscrutable aspect of my personality mean nothing to you?"

"Come on," Kisame clarifies helpfully, seeing that Deidara is in danger of knocking his head against the table until unconsciousness claims him. "This is Uchiha Itachi we're talking about. Everyone thought he was asexual up until now. Even us. Of course a little Leaf kunoichi wouldn't know if he had any interest in her."

"That one has fucking evil powers, though," Hidan counters darkly. "I wouldn't put anything past her."

Deidara straightens, gazing determinedly at Itachi. "Your last healing is in an hour, un, and this evening, we have to deposit her back in her happy little village. If there's a good time to shock us all into dying of premature heart attacks by unleashing some of your famous but previously-stifled Uchiha charm, now would be it, un."

Itachi recoils, as if Deidara's statement had been the basest of insults. "I am in possession of no such…charm."

"Well, that puts you in a difficult position, un," Deidara says thoughtfully. "As you have to give her subtle clues that you may be interested in her during your upcoming healing session – but if you go about it in your customarily socially retarded way, un, you may just screw everything up."

"Aww, no, Deidara-senpai," Tobi protests. "Itachi-san could never screw things up!"

He throws Itachi a look of such unadulterated adoration that the Uchiha nearly wilts.

"I will try my level best to refrain from _screwing everything up_, as you so eruditely put it," Itachi says dryly. "Now, I intend to meditate."

"Pray for strength," Hidan advises. "You're definitely going to need it."

"And don't come back down until you've got the girl, un!" Deidara calls after him.

-

Itachi has been pacing in front of Sakura's room for three and a half minutes, and counting – with absolutely no immediate intention of entering. Despite the carefully schooled expression of calmness on his face, he has the well-intentioned but slightly frightening courtship advice of three other homicidal men – and Tobi – occupying his mind, and that is hardly any help to his already strained nerves.

To his eternal shame, he nearly jumps, the dastardly machinations of his mind interrupted rudely by the sound of Sakura flinging the door open. Her hair is standing on end, as if she had run her fingers through it several times. "_What_?"

Itachi almost flinches; he has faced several million things more dangerous than an irate kunoichi, of course, but he also knows that none of the other several million dangerous things have ever been known to castrate a man with a pen. "…How did you—"

"I can hear your footsteps," she interrupts, crossing her arms. "They've been echoing around my room for the past three minutes and forty-five seconds."

There are a few moments where they both take the measure of one another, before Sakura steps back from the doorway. "If you wanted to _hang out_," – she purposely borrows the most notoriously childish and innocent of Tobi's trademark terms, knowing the effect it will have on him – "or something, you could have just knocked and asked politely."

This time, Itachi cannot restrain his shudder at the mere implication that he could ever be caught doing something so juvenile. "I wish to do no such thing. If I wanted to _hang_ in any way, I would strangle myself with Leader-sama's best dress ties."

Sakura gives him a mischievous smile. "Oh, really? Then why are you still here?"

Itachi's left eye twitches slightly. "I – wished to escape Tobi's attempt at arts and crafts time."

"Ha!" Sakura crows triumphantly; somewhat forgetting exactly who she's dealing with, she gives the rather shell-shocked Itachi a punch on the shoulder. "_Lies, _Uchiha! Lies! Tobi's arts and crafts time was three hours ago!"

His burgeoning – feelings – for this troublesome young woman aside, Itachi inches away, somewhat fearing for her sanity, and for the integrity of secret Akatsuki rituals. "How did you know that?"

Sakura snorts, walking back into he room. "I could hear Hidan cursing over being the one who had to pick up all the Play-Doh."

"…Ah."

"I'm glad that I'm going to be out of here by midnight," Sakura confesses to him, in a rare candid moment. She taps the side of her head. "I think the insanity around here may be catching."

Upon the informal invitation, Itachi enters the room cautiously and takes a seat upon the rickety wooden rocking chair. "Let me remind you that you may only leave the premises after fulfilling the terms of our agreement."

Her smile fades a little, and Sakura has to remind herself that she is, after all, lucky to be leaving here with her life, and a certain pair of genuine Dior sunglasses. She lowers herself onto the chilly wooden floors, crossing her legs and drawing a small amount of chakra to her open palms. "Come here, Uchiha. We're going to finish this."

Itachi complies, by now having realized that argument would be futile, but closing his eyes in her presence is something that he is still uncomfortable doing. He cannot shake the suspicion that, if it were at all possible, she would take some of Deidara's best Magic Markers (which he knows she has stashed somewhere in here) and scrawl demeaning phrases all over his face while he is none the wiser.

His nose twitches in displeasure at the very thought, and Sakura taps him firmly on it with her free hand. "Stay still; the nerves in the back are very delicate, and if one little wire gets crossed, you could be seeing in orange light for the rest of your life."

The pressure of her chakra against his optical nerves increases – it is uncomfortable, in a strange way that he cannot quite place, and Itachi shivers.

For a moment, Sakura's chakra ebbs. "Are you – _ticklish,_ Uchiha?" she asks incredulously.

"Do not be ridiculous, _Sakura._ It is nothing of the sort."

He curses his inability to open his eyes and fix a glare on the kunoichi, but agreeably enough, she settles back into her normal routine; until, quite out of nowhere, there is another jolt of the disagreeable sensation. Much to his discomfiture, Itachi flinches outright, and his pride – which has already taken a considerable battering in the past week – sustains another blow when Sakura laughs out loud. "You _are _ticklish!"

Itachi cannot see, but he still has the rest of his senses intact. Without a great deal of thought, he reaches out, curling his fingers around her unusually delicate throat. "Kunoichi, if I open my eyes to discover that I may only see the world through a zesty citrus spectrum, there will be hell to pay," he says, in his most silkily dangerous tone.

This time, Sakura keeps her laughter a great deal more restrained, although he can still hear the barely-contained humor bubbling beneath her reply. "I apologize. Don't worry, though, you won't be seeing orange. Pink, perhaps? In any case, _Itachi,_ please remove your grip from my ankle. I find that it's bordering on sexual harassment."

Itachi can say nothing to this, but he does remove his grip from her ankle.

"Ooh, burn," Sakura mutters under her breath.

"…Pardon?"

"Nothing!"

-

Itachi spends the entirety of the next half hour frantically trying to determine the least asinine of the "subtle" ways Deidara had informed him would be appropriate to hint at his 'affection' for Sakura.

"So," he deadpans, privately unable to believe that he has just started a sentence with the usage of a conjunction. He must be far gone indeed. "What awaits you upon your return to your village?"

His eyes are still closed, but he has the satisfaction of hearing her small, hurriedly stifled, choke of surprise, before she recovers quickly and replies. "A return to my customary routine of duty, honor, saving the lives of my comrades, attempting to incarcerate _your_ comrades so that they can cease and desist their attempts upon my best friend's life, and, oh – looking fabulous in my new Dior sunglasses, of course."

"Lovely," Itachi says sardonically.

"And you?" she inquires sweetly, and he feels a slight twinge as she mends one of the last frayed nerves.

"A return to my customary routine of performing every action that is the very antithesis of your stated purpose in life," Itachi replies, after a moment's thought. "Along with avoiding incarceration by the likes of your kind so that I may continue wreaking havoc around the world, and, oh – purchasing new Versace sunglasses, of course."

He is rewarded by the small gulp of laughter that she chokes back. "Oh, an upgrade, I see. You're an awfully evil person and a scourge upon humanity itself, you know," Sakura informs him matter-of-factly, and he can hear the small grain of truth within the carefully lighthearted tone of her next sentence. "I hope you know that I'm going to hate you with a dedicated, passionate devotion for the rest of my life, for making me compromise my honor in this fashion."

Itachi smirks a little. "I am aware. As a matter of fact, I relish it."

After making this statement, Itachi feels the gently probing sensation of her chakra slowly withdraw from his eyes. "Open up," she instructs, "and tell me how it feels."

To his relief, his newly restored vision does not involve him seeing everything in various tones of orange. It is, as a matter of fact, nothing less than perfect. "…Satisfactory," he says slowly.

In the dim evening light, her green eyes catch the few flecks of golden candlelight, turning them into molten emerald, and Itachi is surprised to realize that, for the past few years of his visual deterioration, all colors that he has seen have been filtered and muted through shades of gray. Now, though, Sakura is all exaggeratedly bright pink and green and red, so bright and cheerful that it should, actually, make him nauseous.

"So, that translates to _excellent_ in Uchiha-speak, I suppose," she smirks, leaning back against the bed, justified in her pride.

Itachi raises an eyebrow. "Do you really have enough experience with my prose to _translate_ it, if you will, into your customarily exuberant turns of speech?"

He is surprised to see a slight shadow flicker across her eyes, before it is gone, as quickly as if it had never been there. She stands, stretches luxuriously, and pokes him in the clavicle, which has become a sort of habit with her. "I was – acquainted – with your younger brother once," she says offhandedly, before flashing him a rather distracting smile. "And, in case it's escaped you, you're positively talkative in my presence. Pity, another couple more sessions, and I bet I would have had you spilling your deepest, darkest secrets."

This hits too close to home for Itachi's comfort, and he quickly busies himself with surveying every trivial little detail of the room. He is suddenly conscious of the fact that this is what Kisame would, tactfully, call _the opportune moment_ to strike, but for once, his predator's instinct seems to have thoroughly abandoned him.

To his surprise, Sakura stops dead all of a sudden, staring at him as if transfixed. "Oh, my Buddha," she gasps – a habit that she has picked up from Kisame. "I can't believe I didn't figure it out earlier."

Itachi steps back, despite himself, his eyes narrowing warily as if readying for battle. "Of what do you speak?"

"Your little secret, Uchiha," Sakura replies, completely sure of herself.

"I have no secrets," Itachi says inconsequentially, hoping that she will forget that his entire life is, in fact, based strongly upon secrets and mystery.

"You're a nail polish sniffer, aren't you?"

This is hardly what he had been expecting her to say, and he blinks. "What?"

"You heard me." Sakura folds her arms and studies him shrewdly. "It explains the split personalities and stuff."

Even in the face of this ridiculous accusation, Itachi feels as if he could almost – _laugh_, which is a downright shocking prospect indeed. "Let me assure you, Sakura," he says smoothly, recovering his usual composure. "I am not a…nail polish sniffer."

The kunoichi deflates visibly; certain that she had, at last, found the solution to the mysterious enigma that was Uchiha Itachi. "Fine," she nearly pouts, offering him her arm. "Let's go downstairs – I want to bid your…friends…farewell."

"They are not my friends," Itachi counters, staring at the offered body part in a rather puzzled manner, before he awkwardly manages to link it through his, so that her palm rests lightly on the top of his arm. "They are my allies toward achieving a shared goal."

"Sure," Sakura says, rolling her eyes. "And that goal would be?"

"World domination," Itachi replies calmly – the truth, yes, even though the Akatsuki's current aim seems to be primarily aiding him in performing various socially awkward courtship methods to their fullest capacity. However, that just does not have the same dramatic flair to it. On the first step of the staircase, he remembers Deidara's ultimatum of not coming downstairs until he had _got the girl_, so to speak. Technically, as their arms are somewhat entwined, he has access to an aspect of her person, therefore, logically, he is fulfilling the artist's ludicrous terms.

"How awfully predictable," Sakura sighs. "I had expected better, Uchiha."

Itachi allows himself the luxury of a small, ironic smirk. "If I told you the truth, you would hardly believe me."

She offers him a flinty smile. "Try me."

Thankfully, he is spared the necessity of answering by the fact that he suddenly finds the two of them blockaded by Kisame, Hidan, Deidara, and Tobi, who are waiting at the bottom of the staircase. All of them have resorted to the basest of intimidation tactics and are trying their best to look as coolly menacing and unconcerned as possible – Kisame leans on the unsheathed Samehada, inspecting his nails, which are filed to razor-sharp points, Deidara is lounging against a wall, tossing a clay bomb from hand to hand casually, and Hidan has reduced himself to a menacing shadow in the corner. Tobi, meanwhile, flits back and forth, doing his best vampire impersonation, while humming a chilling piano score.

Sakura raises an eyebrow fractionally. "Impressive. It almost makes me regain some of my respect for you guys."

"Ooh, yay, we're cool again!" Tobi squeals.

"I said _almost_," Sakura retorts, although her words are softened by a smile upon seeing the swirly-masked innocent.

Deidara's sharp eyes do not miss the way Sakura's arm slides out from Itachi's light hold as she obliges to return Tobi's hug; his eyes widen, and one of the mouths on his hands chokes and gags on its clay. Itachi arches an eyebrow in warning, and the blonde missing-nin somehow manages to refrain from screaming an inquiry at the top of his lungs. Instead, he settles for jerking his head erratically to the left and right, and then up and down.

"Is he having a seizure or something?" Sakura whispers.

Itachi shakes his head minutely. "No. He is not."

Deidara collapses onto the table with a moan of despair.

Hidan mutters something that sounds suspiciously like, "Fucking _hopeless._"

Sakura hears nothing except the obscenity; she turns on Hidan sharply. "Excuse you?"

Hidan meets her glare. "What, kunoichi? Want to go?"

Kisame laughs nervously, before setting aside Samehada in order to place himself between them. "If looks could kill," he chides. "If everyone only did breathing exercises—"

Personal differences aside, everybody in the immediate vicinity takes a few moments to roll their eyes.

"Fine," Sakura is the first to concede, graciously, while ducking out of Kisame's protective hold.

Hidan nods his grudging agreement; he steps forward, spits in his palm, and holds the sopping palm out to the kunoichi. "Peace, then, heathen – for now."

To everybody's horror, Sakura spits in her palm as well, and exchanges a hearty handshake with the Akatsuki's resident zealot. She smiles at him sweetly. "Peace."

"You're not as much of a jackass as the rest of your people," Hidan acknowledges as he finally pulls away. "You have a talent – I swear, the rest of the Konoha heathens I've met can't cuss out a five-year-old to save their lives. Pity you're using your skills for the wrong side."

"It's all objective," Sakura protests.

"Whatever, kunoichi," Hidan rolls his eyes; before retreating to his lair, he turns around one last time and winks at her. "Oh, and remember to give my regards to your mom."

Sakura cheerfully gives him the finger.

Kisame shakes his head in disbelief.

At this point, Tobi decides that the levels of hardcore badass-ness in the Akatsuki Headquarters have reached too high of a point for his personal comfort; he promptly bursts out into tears and hugs Sakura again. "Sakura-san!" he wails, clutching the quite squished-looking kunoichi in his arms. "Please come back and visit a lot!"

"I don't know, Tobi—" Sakura chokes.

Tobi hugs her tighter and blubbers something about her being his "bestest friend" and "big sister". While Itachi fights the urge to retch, Sakura melts under the face of such skillful persuasion, and assures him that she will, indeed, visit for once-monthly Monopoly Game Nights.

"Oh, go away, un," Deidara says disgustedly. "You're all…snotty and teary and crap."

"Don't be mean to him!" Sakura defends, but Tobi dutifully gives her one last hug, professions of eternal best friendship, and toddles off to the bathroom, sniffling sadly.

Sakura waves after him, before turning to the second remaining Akatsuki member. Deidara raises an eyebrow at her. "No need to fall to your knees with gratitude at the courtesy and promptness and general stylishness of my constant correspondence, un."

Sakura cannot help but grin at him. "You have my thanks, Official Head Of The Official Department Of Letters To Be Written To Prisoners."

They bump fists, and Deidara gets up to go, looking quite calm and unaffected. "Pardon me for not shedding tears, un," he says mischievously. "But I have a feeling that we'll be seeing more of each other in the future. Call it an artistic instinct, un."

Behind Sakura's back, Itachi glares a warning, and subtly unearths a steak knife from the kitchen drawer. Deidara pales.

Quite unaware of the blatant intimidation tactics going on behind her, Sakura waves a few fingers at Deidara. "Very well, then. And I'll remember to bring you a few boxes of blonde hair dye when that does happen – it must be hard to maintain fake hair color as a wanted criminal, you know?"

Deidara fairly squeaks in indignation and runs off down the hallway.

Now, Sakura is alone in the kitchen with Kisame and Itachi. The shark-man looks back and forth between the innocent kunoichi and his panicked-looking partner (but then again, for Itachi, _panicked_ translates to a periodic twitching of his right eye), laughs to himself, and edges toward the door. "Well, Sakura-san, you seem to be a wonderful person and I'm thoroughly overjoyed that I've come to know you in the past week or so, and I think it would be highly advisable if you remember and continue our yoga routines—"

As fast as lightning, Itachi's hand snaps out, and he grabs his retreating partner by the arm. Despite the thinness of his fingers, his grip is strong, and Kisame flinches. "Why, Kisame, where are you going?" he asks rhetorically.

Kisame tries to pull away, pasting an innocuous smile on his face; Sakura looks on, curiously. "Why, Itachi, _ANBU_ _Romance_ is on at this time slot—"

Itachi's grip tightens. "Why, Kisame," he grits out, "were you aware that there are reruns tomorrow at four in the afternoon?"

He is caught, well and truly, and Kisame sighs. "Why, no, Itachi, I was not."

"Very well," Itachi replies, satisfied, and releases him. "You may accompany us to Konoha."

"Oh, fish sticks and endless joy," Kisame mutters under his breath. He sticks his hand in one of the inner pockets of his cloak, and withdraws a scarf, emblazoned with two cheerful clownfish, a regal blue tang, a little sea turtle, and a widely grinning shark.

He tosses said scarf at Sakura, who catches it easily. "Eh, Kisame, I really appreciate this gesture of friendship, but I think that you'd like a Finding Nemo scarf better than I would—"

Itachi sighs. "Kisame, I gifted you with a Lion King scarf last Christmas. I was under the impression that we agreed that it was more dignified for individuals of our station."

"Scar's freakin' _scary_," Kisame says defensively. "Anyway, kunoichi – it's not for you to keep. You're great and everything, but I wouldn't give my Finding Nemo scarf to anybody. Do us a favor and tie it around your eyes."

Sakura chokes indignantly, waving the scarf at him in protest. "I'm not going to blindfold myself while in the presence of two lethal missing-nin! That goes against every self-preservation instinct I have!"

"It is either that or we knock you out," Itachi replies impassively. "I believed that you would prefer to remain conscious."

Sakura rolls her eyes. "Your kindness and generosity are unsurpassed. Besides, how am I supposed to travel efficiently while blindfolded?"

"You don't," Kisame supplies.

Sakura's right hand tightens around the delicate scarf, and Kisame cannot help but gulp.

"Kisame will carry you," Itachi decrees.

This would not have been a problem, if Kisame had not chosen that exact moment to assure Sakura that Itachi would carry her.

There is a moment of awkward silence in the kitchen.

Sakura raises an eyebrow.

Kisame subtly elbows Itachi in the ribs.

Itachi sends a _don't-you-dare_ brand of death glare in his partner's direction.

"I have a horrible spinal condition, you know," Kisame says conversationally. "It perks up around the full moon – has something to do with the tides and whatnot. In the interests of preserving my health, Itachi, in his endless consideration, has opted to carry you instead."

"How very courteous of him." There is a definite tone of skepticism in Sakura's voice as she reluctantly ties the undignified scarf around her eyes.

"You did not just," Itachi murmurs, his lips barely moving, "go there."

Kisame examines the state of his nail polish, evidently unconcerned. "As a matter of fact, I did. Now, get over there. You have a kunoichi to carry. And, yeah, you can thank me later."

It isn't difficult at all to sweep Sakura into his arms, but Itachi performs every necessary movement tentatively and half-flinching, as if he expects her skin to burn his upon making contact. Kisame practically dances back and forth and giggles, and Itachi sneers at him, while privately thanking all the gods that Hidan, Tobi, and _especially_ Deidara are not here to see this.

As he carries Sakura out of Headquarters, accompanied by Kisame, the kunoichi takes the opportunity to deliver him a warning kick on the ribs. "If you break my neck due to a random and inexplicable physical spasm," she cautions, "or if you drop me to my death now that I've outlived my usefulness to your weird little cause – you're going to have hell to pay. I will come back as a ghost, and I will haunt you for the rest of your days and generally make your life miserable."

Despite the fact that Nemo and Dory, respectively, are currently plastered over Sakura's eyes, Itachi has the distinct feeling that she is glaring at him as menacingly as she can, and he has to fight to keep the amusement in his voice to a bare minimum, as he and Kisame make their way into the branches of a nearby tree. "Indeed."

"Freaking Uchiha and their monosyllables," Sakura mutters in a resentful undertone, as they begin the long journey home.

-

Much to Kisame's quiet amusement, the decidedly snarky banter between Itachi and Sakura continues for a good half of the way to Konoha, upon which point the kunoichi falls into a light doze, having more or less overcome her fear of having her neck broken by a random and inexplicable physical spasm, or being dropped to her death.

"Aww," he has to chip in, at this point. "She _trusts_ you – or…something…"

Itachi has a rather dangerous expression on his face. "I am not speaking to you."

"But—"

"Not speaking!"

Kisame shuts up, and decides to save any and all spirited renditions of _Itachi and Sakura, sitting in a tree…_ for later.

-

Sakura wakes up just in time to inform Itachi and Kisame, superciliously, that they cannot expect to make their way past the Konoha guard towers, and if they had any interest in keeping their lives intact, they had better drop her off right here and let her go the remaining three miles on her own.

Itachi and Kisame pride themselves on being generally stoic and calm individuals, but upon hearing this declaration, both of them laugh openly for no less than a minute. Blindfolded or not, Sakura manages to throw a twig in Kisame's direction, and kicks Itachi in the ribs for the second time of the night.

-

Much to her dismay, when she feels herself being set down on the ground for the first time in two and a half hours and the Finding Nemo scarf is once again pocketed by Kisame, Sakura finds herself in front of her apartment. She gapes wordlessly. "How did you—"

"Tobi has many failings," Itachi frowns, "but he is, admittedly, extremely skilled at reconnaissance."

Sakura recoils visibly. "Ew. _Stalkers._"

It takes all the considerable strength Itachi possesses to not fall down flat on the floor with comical Xs over his eyes.

Kisame takes this a little better, and he steps toward her, his hand outstretched. Sakura returns the gesture with a reluctant smile, takes the hand, and as Itachi watches disbelievingly, the two primary sources of his recent misery share a hug. "Take care of yourself, Bruce," she says with a grin. "Don't get stuck in the lotus position or accidentally drink shark-fin soup or anything stupid like that."

Kisame winces. "That's nothing to joke about, you know. And _you _– try your best to keep your blood pressure down. That may be difficult, but anything is possible with yoga and breathing exercises."

Sakura rolls her eyes affectionately, and Kisame chances a look around at his partner, who is breathing shallowly and looking somewhat scarier than usual. "Oh, look at the time," the shark-man says airily. "I think I'm going to go and scare that weird green spandex freak in his sleep. I'll meet you at the bridge in fifteen, okay?"

To give credit where credit is due, Itachi somehow manages to restrain himself from jumping on Kisame, wrapping his arms around his neck, and pleading him not to leave. Instead, he manages to incline his head a fraction of an inch. "Very well."

Kisame wiggles his fingers cheerfully at Itachi and Sakura. "Toodles!"

With that, he disappears, leaving the unlikely couple alone.

"So," Sakura says, tapping her foot on the floor.

"…So."

There is a highly awkward silence between them, and Itachi, out of his deeply rooted preference for natural silences as compared to awkward ones, decides to take the initiative. He does this after clearing his throat about three times, while Sakura gives him several dubious looks.

"Sakura," Itachi manages at last. Privately unable to believe that he is even doing this, he reaches forward and tentatively takes her hand. He feels her muscles tense underneath his touch, but she does not pull away, instead fixing him with a look of utter suspicion. Thankfully, that particular look melts into one of satisfaction, after he withdraws the Dior sunglasses from his cloak and presses them into her hand, before curling her slight fingers around the priceless fashion accessory. "…Thank you."

Sakura blinks, drawing the sunglasses back to her. For somebody as skilled as reading body language as he is, Itachi is surprised to find that he cannot decipher the inscrutable expression in her eyes.

At long last, she brings two fingers to her mouth, pressing them lightly against her lips. Itachi tries his level best to not be mesmerized by this simple action, but fails. Miserably.

It is a testament to his remarkable self-restraint alone that when Sakura touches the kissed fingers to his cheek, Itachi does not faint. Or drop dead of sheer surprise. Instead, he blinks once, just once, wondering if she had caught him in some sort of sick, twisted genjutsu while his guard had been down.

Sakura laughs a little; the surprise in his eyes is evident. "That's for the spark of decency that lies within you, Uchiha Itachi," she says softly, as she pulls her hand back.

Itachi realizes unpleasantly that, once again, that this remarkable kunoichi has reduced him to speechlessness.

She smiles at him, then – a sweet, completely disarming smile, not unlike the one she had bestowed on Tobi so many times.

Then Sakura punches him in the jaw.

It is a hard hit, enough to shatter his icy self-control, and tilt his head fractionally to the right; despite the slight movement, Itachi can feel the simultaneous cracking of all six vertebrae in his neck.

Sakura draws the offending fist back, and blows lightly on her knuckles. "And that," she explains, "is to remind you to call on that little spark more often."

The retreat that she beats into her apartment is extraordinary speedy, yet elegant.

Itachi stares after her, at the closed door, for five minutes straight.

-

After a short while spent vandalizing the house of the sleeping Maito Gai, Kisame remembers that he has to meet Itachi at the bridge. He draws another shark on the Konoha shinobi's refrigerator in Sharpie, and then blows that popsicle joint, stopping only to grab a handful of lollipops from a kitchen cabinet.

He finds Itachi leaning on the bridge's railing, staring deeply into his reflection. True, Kisame cannot actually see his face, but he doubts that any Konoha guys get their kicks out of dressing up as an Akatsuki member.

"Hey," he greets his partner, coming to rest beside him. "You'll never guess what I did to the spandex freak's house—"

Then Itachi looks up at him, and the words die in Kisame's throat.

"…That's a hell of a hickey," he manages, as he stares, awe-struck, at Itachi's jaw. "Odd angle, though."

The Uchiha prodigy blinks once. "It's not."

It takes a few moments for Kisame to put it together, but when he does, his jaw drops. After hastily recovering himself, he unearths one of the stolen lollipops, feeling rather frantic. "Lollipop? It'll make it all better. I promise."

"I doubt it."

Regardless, Kisame speedily unwraps the bright orange lollipop and pries it into Itachi's clamped lips. "Is that better?" he asks, worried.

Itachi mutters something incoherent, around the fluorescent citrus-flavored orb that has been stuck so unceremoniously into his mouth.

"Oh, my Buddha." Kisame paces in a circle, trying his best to remember all the dating articles he had ever read in the Miss Manners column. Finally, the perfect solution comes to him, and he holds his arms out placatingly. "Man-hug. Now."

"Kisame, I do not want—"

"Now!" Kisame barks. "You'll thank me later."

Itachi submits without further argument.

-

It is a long, dark, and dismal return to Akatsuki Headquarters. Much to Kisame's alarm, he finds Hidan, Deidara, and Tobi waiting up for them in the living room. Itachi enters first, his face carefully expressionless, and all three other members perk up noticeably upon seeing him – despite Kisame's desperate flailings of _Oh, Buddha, please don't go there._

"Wow, un," Deidara is the first to speak. "That's a hell of a hickey. …Odd angle, though."

Itachi says nothing, but his eyes glint dangerously.

-

It takes Hidan, Tobi, and Kisame the rest of the night to scrape Deidara off the floor.

* * *

Don't worry – it's not done yet. Not by a long shot. :)

Feedback appreciated!


	7. OMG My BFF

_Once again, thank you so much to everybody who reviewed. :) Oh, and to give credit where credit is due? Twilight is the property of Stephanie Meyer, the Twilight score is the property of the guy who made the Twilight score, Finding Nemo belongs to Disney Pixar, and Sakura's haiku for Itachi was taken from That 70's Show, in a quote from Hyde to Jackie. I love that show. :D_

-

The first thing Konan thinks, upon her entrance directly into the middle of the Akatsuki family room, is that somebody has died. Tobi has his head buried in his beanbag, Hidan is clutching his rosary and praying under his breath, Kisame is cuddling his stuffed shark and looking disheartened, and Deidara actually _isn't _fashioning cherry bombs out of clay, which is alarming indeed. She slips her hand out of Pein's hastily, her clear blue eyes cataloguing all the members – Tobi, Deidara, Hidan, Kisame…Itachi?

"Where's Itachi?" are the first words out of her mouth, and the other men turn around quickly, evidently surprised to see her.

"Welcome back, big sister!" Despite his previous melancholy, Tobi bounds forward and embraces her tightly; after Konan pats his head several times, he looks up at her soulfully. "I am sorry to inform you that Itachi-san is – indisposed."

Pein's eyes narrow as he steps forward to survey his organization. "Did the medic not perform her job well?"

"If she didn't, I'll give her the worst paper cuts she's ever had," Konan vows grimly, releasing Tobi.

Kisame waves his hands agitatedly. "It's not that she didn't do her job well, Leader-sama," – he hesitates – "if anything, she did her job a little _too_ well."

The Leader raises an eyebrow. "Explain."

"Uchiha's vision has been fully restored, un," Deidara chips in, unable to hide a small smirk. "He just got his heart ripped out and stomped on in the process."

Their status as leaders of the most notorious criminal organization in the world aside, Pein and Konan cannot suppress gasps of shock.

"Deidara," Pein chokes. "_Please_ tell me you are speaking literally."

"Nope," Hidan cuts in. "Little red-eye fell fucking _hard, _and the irate kunoichi didn't exactly – reciprocate. Actually," he adds as an afterthought. "Nobody knows exactly what happened, but he came back with a hell of an ugly, fist-sized bruise last night, after he and Kisame returned her to Konoha."

Konan paces back and forth, half believing that this is all just some kind of twisted and elaborate prank designed to punish her and Pein for leaving them alone for the past two weeks. "Where is he?" she asks at last.

"Lurking in the basement," Kisame replies worriedly. "He's been there since we got back. He hasn't even come out for any Vitamin Water."

Pein runs his hand through his violently orange hair with a sigh; a depressed Itachi runs the risk of being rabid and highly dangerous. "Konan, come."

He sweeps in the direction of the basement stairs, Konan follows at his side, and Kisame, Deidara, Hidan, and Tobi trail afterward out of a sense of morbid curiosity, although Deidara tries his best to hide behind Kisame.

The basement is a dank, dilapidated, and thoroughly dismal and depressing place, furnished only with moldy black velvet armchairs. Itachi blends into the utter darkness well; the gleam of his crimson eyes is the only indication of his location. The rest of Akatsuki clusters into a small group at the base of the staircase, somewhat uncertain of what, exactly, to do – the last person who had attempted to speak to him (Deidara), had been splattered on the floor for the majority of the night.

Pein looks to Konan; taking the hint, she steps forward, approaching the S-ranked missing-nin tentatively. "'Tachi-chan?"

Luckily, Hidan manages to stifle his laughter at the nickname – hell, it was even worse than _little red-eye _– and Pein shoots him a warning look. "She always wanted a little brother, you know."

Hidan nods weakly and stuffs his knuckles in his mouth, just in case.

Itachi looks up at Konan and blinks. "Greetings," he says mechanically. "How was your mission?"

"Lovely; we tracked down and killed ten rival businessmen in two weeks," Konan replies automatically. "How are you?"

He looks up at her properly, then, and it takes all of Konan's self-control not to flinch. Hidan always had a penchant for exaggeration, but the bruise on Itachi's jaw really _is_ awful-looking. Haruno Sakura's file had mentioned her superhuman strength, but punching _the_ Uchiha Itachi in the jaw and getting away with it must have meant that the little Leaf kunoichi was something else entirely.

Completely at a loss, Konan looks through her customary mission bag, dislodging an impressive armory, more fancy paper than Deidara has ever seen at Michael's, a various array of poisons, a squeaky rubber duck that she had brought back for Tobi, and finally unearths a somewhat battered chocolate chip cookie, which looks as if it had seen much better days. She holds the cookie out to the Uchiha prodigy. "Eat it. It'll help."

For a moment, Itachi looks as if he would consider arguing, but at last, he accepts the cookie, and takes a delicate bite of it.

The Akatsuki watches with bated breath as he chews, for half a minute exactly, and then swallows it without comment. At that point, Konan, Pein, Hidan, Deidara, Kisame, and Tobi all exhale in relief.

Konan pats Itachi on the head gently. "I'll make some more, and then I'll call you up to eat, okay?"

Itachi nods wordlessly.

All six other Akatsuki members, their esteemed Leader included, then beat a hasty retreat upstairs to confer.

-

"Hot _damn,_" Hidan explodes, as soon as they have reached the safety of the kitchen. "Little red-eye really does have it bad!"

Deidara shakes his head in wonder. "I never thought I'd see the day, un."

"Poor Itachi-san," Tobi says, nearly in tears. "I shall go and crochet him a nice, fuzzy sweater, so that it may warm his heart!"

Pein leans against the refrigerator, watching Konan hurriedly deposit a great deal of frozen cookie dough onto a tray and stick it into the oven, while wondering what kind of demonic entity could have thrown his most efficient member into such a state of sorrow. "Was it some kind of genjutsu?" he wonders to himself.

Kisame shakes his head sagely. "I doubt it, but she was a fiery one."

"She nearly castrated Hidan with a pen, un," Deidara supplies.

The gravity of the situation aside, Konan cannot help but smile. "Intriguing."

Hidan tilts his head to the air, sniffing slightly. "Shut up, everyone!" he hisses, suddenly alert. "He's coming!"

In the few moments that follow, everybody tries their best to assume innocuous – well, as innocuous as a house of renowned criminals can get, anyway – poses. Pein disappears behind the business section of the newspaper, Deidara immediately starts sculpting birds, and Hidan and Tobi quickly begin a game of Tic-Tac-Toe on a corner of the tablecloth.

Itachi steps into the kitchen cautiously, looking around at his comrades, who all appear to be trying very hard to pretend that nothing is out of the ordinary.

"Tic-Tac-fucking-Toe, bitch!" Hidan crows triumphantly.

Konan levels a disapproving look at him. "Hidan. Please refrain from calling Tobi that; he's a very sensitive boy."

Hidan wilts under the face of her displeasure. "…Sorry. I guess."

Itachi walks to the stove, his back to the others, and they all cease pretending to engage in their normal activities in order to stare at his back, while he stares at the countdown on the oven's screen intently.

Sensing their eyes on him, he swivels around sharply, and they all freeze guiltily.

Itachi sighs imperceptibly, before turning his attention back to the oven. "I assure you that I am quite all right."

Luckily, the oven chooses that moment to beep, saving them from the necessity of making a diplomatic reply. Konan twitches slightly, before pulling herself up from her seat gracefully, and, scorning the use of an oven mitt, pulls out the tray of steaming, soft, slightly melt-y chocolate chip cookies.

Deidara cannot stifle his soft moan of longing.

Pein lowers the newspaper and fixes him with a warning look. Therefore, Hidan, Kisame, Tobi, and Deidara do nothing but stare at the cookies, transfixed, as Konan places five of them on Itachi's plate, and pours him a cold glass of milk.

"Oh, _fuck,_" Hidan murmurs, his eyes trained on the plate of cookies with an inordinate amount of desire.

Itachi nods his thanks to Konan, takes the plate and the glass of milk, and then disappears from the kitchen without another word, his sandals echoing softly as he goes off down the hallway.

"Damn, un," Deidara says at last. "Five cookies? Six in all, un…sugar is like crack cocaine to him!"

Kisame shakes his head, awestruck. "The last time he went through a great personal tragedy, all he had was two."

"Great personal tragedy?" Pein inquires.

"Deidara accidentally blew up his entire personal library. Itachi cried for like three seconds, broke Deidara's legs and ribs, and then ate two peanut butter cookies."

Konan takes a seat, privately amazed. "Honestly, I wish I had a chance to meet this Haruno Sakura. She sounds like an – interesting – sort of individual."

Deidara snorts. "You have no idea, un."

-

_Meanwhile, in Konoha…_

-

The first thing Sakura does, after making her report to Tsunade-shishou, and spending no less than one hour assuring her anxious teacher that she had suffered no torture, physical, emotional, or mental, while under the care of the Akatsuki, is head down the Tower, in search of the Interrogations and Questioning department. Her mind is buzzing with a million freakin' _weird_ things to tell, and there's only one person who she trusts to give her an honest opinion—

The second Sakura knocks on the heavy wooden departmental door, it swings open, and Sakura falls inward, into a pair of very familiar arms.

"Forehead Girl!" Ino shrieks, at the top of her lungs, before proceeding to lock her arms around Sakura in a crushing embrace and beginning to sob in her relief. "Oh, my _Buddha_! The word on the street was that you were captured by the Akatsuki and I thought I was going to die of fright and Tsunade-sama had to lock me and Naruto and Kakashi-sensei and Yamato up to prevent us from setting out to find you and Shikamaru said that they might want to use you to heal that Uchiha bastard's eyes and I was so worried, and…and…"

At this point, Ino begins crying too hard to speak properly, and, rolling her eyes affectionately, Sakura pulls out a handkerchief and tosses it at her best friend as she enters the office and shuts the door behind her. "Calm down, Ino-pig. It turns out you heard right – I _was_ captured by the Akatsuki, and I did have to heal that Uchiha bastard's eyes."

Ino dabs at her eyes, managing to reduce the formidable flow of tears into slightly more reserved sniffles. "They didn't – _hurt_ you, did they? I can't believe you were alone for two weeks with an organization full of mass-murdering psychopaths!"

"No, they didn't hurt me. Not at all."

"Not even," – Ino looks around her office furtively, before lowering her voice to a whisper, as if she is talking about a most evil entity, one who could be summoned by even saying its name – "_Itachi_?"

Sakura sighs deeply, taking a seat on Morino Ibiki's empty chair. "That's exactly what I wanted to tell you about…"

Ino flings the handkerchief back at her impatiently. "What are you waiting for, Sakura! Spill!"

It takes Sakura an hour to tell Ino her whole story, starting from the beginning of her captivity. She omits no details whatsoever, and talks until her throat is dry, and until Ino is staring at her, transfixed, with her mouth slightly open.

"…So that's what happened," she finishes, at last. "Isn't it _weird_?"

Ino scoots her chair closer to Sakura, looking somewhat horrified. "Sakura."

"…Yeah?"

"It sounds to me a lot like – like – " the blonde kunoichi pauses, shaking her head disbelievingly. "I can't even say it!"

"Ino! Tell me!"

"Fine, but only if you promise not to hit me afterward."

Sakura fairly twitches with anticipation. "Fine!"

Ino takes a deep breath, steeling herself. "It sounds a lot to me like – like Uchiha Itachi likes you."

Sakura blinks.

"_Likes_ you," Ino elaborates unnecessarily. "If you know what I mean."

-

Sakura's bloodcurdling scream echoes around Hokage Tower. Twice.

-

_Akatsuki Headquarters_

-

They let Itachi sulk in his room for another couple of hours, while Pein and Konan confer about these strange new developments in an undertone. Then, Tobi stands up, tosses his knitting needles aside, and proudly declares that his sweater for Itachi-san is done, and would anybody like to come along for a visit?

Naturally, Hidan, Deidara, and Kisame accompany him, just for the lulz that is sure to ensue when Tobi presents the heartbroken Itachi with a fuzzy woolen magenta sweater.

Itachi and Kisame's room is located in the west wing of Headquarters, and is marked by an elegantly painted ocean-blue door and a bronze engraved plaque that bears Kisame's name, followed by the inscription _Fish Are Friends, Not Food,_ and Itachi's, with the inscription _Enter And Face A Painful Death._

Not for the first time, Deidara rolls his eyes at the cliché-ness of it all, and knocks on the door a few times. "Oy! Uchiha! Tobi has a present for you, un!"

"I dislike presents," is the moody reply that he receives.

"Too fucking bad, little red-eye," Hidan says cheerfully. "We're coming in anyway!"

They barge into the spacious room, and Deidara casts a repulsed look around the blue room and the carefully coordinated mixture of Finding Nemo décor and Jaws memorabilia. "I don't know how you _live_ in here, un. It makes me hungry."

Hidan has other things on his mind; he places his hands over his ears, overwhelmed by the excessive volume of the chilling piano score that Itachi has playing on the five-speaker stereo system. "Turn it the fuck down!"

"The _Twilight_ score again, Itachi?" Kisame inquires mildly, sitting down on Itachi's bed.

The Uchiha prodigy is sitting in the lotus position on the pillow, staring blankly out the window. "Yes, Kisame. I find Bella's lullaby soothing."

Deidara manages to find the stereo remote, and turns it down, smiling at him placatingly. "Look, Uchiha, it's a lovely present, un."

Tobi steps forward, beaming radiantly, and offering the neatly folded magenta sweater to Itachi. "Here you go, Itachi-san! I crocheted it myself." He hugs the Uchiha's arm tightly, nuzzling into it. "I just want you to remember that we're all going to be your best friends forever, no matter what."

Itachi surveys the sweater at length, before reaching out and deigning to prod it with one finger. "…It is very soft."

"It was knitted with love," Tobi smiles. "Put it on! It will warm your heart!"

Much to everybody's shock, Itachi reaches forward, claims the sweater, and pulls it over his head expressionlessly. It is a perfect fit.

Hidan shakes his head. "That's just fucking _wrong,_" he mutters to Kisame.

Deidara surveys Itachi thoughtfully, tilting his head. "The color actually works fairly well with your skin tone, un, and with the lovely purple shade of the bruise, and now that you've turned your Sharingan off, it doesn't clash there either, un."

Itachi acknowledges this impromptu fashion advice with a slight nod. "Thank you, Tobi."

Tobi's eyes fill with tears, and he fairly falls flat at Itachi's feet. "You're so very welcome, Itachi-san!"

The kinda-sorta-almost Akatsuki bonding moment is suddenly interrupted by a loud, insistent squelching against the window; it startles Kisame into falling off the bed, and Tobi and Deidara shriek in unison. Itachi spins to look at the window, sweater forgotten, and—

"What the fuck?" Hidan yelps. "It's a freakin' slug!"

The slug, from its place precariously balanced on the windowsill, squelches again, and Itachi notices that it has a sheet of mint-green paper and a small, wrapped package tied around its middle. Instinctively, he reaches for the window's latch, and the slug collapses inside, landing on the bed with yet another tired squelch.

By this point, Kisame, Hidan, Tobi, and Deidara have all retreated to the other side of the room, huddling together on Kisame's bed in sheer fright, while Itachi has armed himself with a kunai, just in case. He reaches out toward the gray slug tentatively—

"Don't touch it!" Kisame screeches, quite beside himself. "You may have gotten your heart stomped on last night, but that's no reason for you to want to end things like this!"

"Kisame," Itachi replies calmly. "It is a slug." He swivels the kunai so that the point points to a black seal in between the slug's feelers. "And it is an animal summons, at that."

Despite everybody's gasps of horror, he then reaches out and removes the green memo paper and the wrapped package from the slug's back. The right side of the room waits breathlessly as Itachi unfolds the paper and reads it, his expression remaining impassive. As soon as he sets it down on the bed, though, Kisame, Hidan, Tobi, and Deidara all rush over there for sheer curiosity, fearsome slug or not.

_Dear Itachi,_

_The contents of the package should help. Actually, never mind – I made it myself, so it _will_ help. _

_Cordially,_

_Sakura. _

_P.S: If you ever kidnap me again, though, I won't stop at a punch to the jaw. _

"Oh my Buddha, un," Deidara gasps, his visible eye widening. "_Correspondence_!"

"What's in the package, Itachi-san?" Tobi asks curiously.

Itachi unwraps the light tissue paper from said package, revealing a small box. He turns it upside down on the bed, and a small transparent container falls out. He picks it up; it is filled to the brim with an ivory cream of some sort, one that smells rather strongly of various herbs.

"Bruise salve," Hidan reads aloud. "Aww, little red-eye – the irate kunoichi _cares_! Or…something…"

Itachi blinks at the innocent container.

"Well?" Deidara prompts. "Aren't you going to write back, un?"

"…I do not intend to."

Kisame stares at his partner incredulously. "You aren't giving up, are you?"

"Kisame," Itachi says at length. "This bruise speaks to me. It says, _I am not interested._"

"Incorrect, un," Deidara counters. "She had no idea you were even into her in any way, so the punch wasn't like – a rebuttal, or anything, un. Besides, written correspondence is an excellent way to further your relationship!"

Itachi stares at Deidara incredulously.

"He has a point," Kisame admits. "_ANBU Romance,_ season three, episode five. The ANBU Cat and the ANBU Hawk were stationed at different posts, and had one encounter charged with sexual tension and professional rivalry, but over the space of several months, their mandatory reports to one another evolved into letters, which in turn, evolved into a relationship."

Hidan nods empathetically. "Fuckin' _word_, man."

"I cannot believe you."

"Look," Deidara replies, flinging himself on the bed. "Now that you're out of punching distance, un, and not in her immediate space, she won't be too afraid of you at all. So now you guys can really get to know each other, un. And subtly expressing your interest should be less difficult since you're not doing it verbally."

Itachi says nothing, but he leans over and retrieves a sheet of Akatsuki memo paper and a pen from his bedside drawer, before placing said items on his lap and staring at them expressionlessly.

_Dear Sakura,_

_Thank you. _

"Tobi says hi! Tobi says hi!" Tobi squeals enthusiastically, as he jumps up and down on Kisame's bed.

…_Tobi wishes for me to convey his regards. _

"And lots of hugs and lots of love!" Tobi adds.

…_and an abundance of hugs and love. _

_Resentfully,_

_Itachi. _

_P.S: Kisame would like to know what kind of yoga videos he could send you. Deidara says he does not need false and packaged hair color. Hidan is directing virulent profanities at your matrilineal line. _

_P.P.S: I wish you much joy of the sunglasses._

"That's not _romantic _enough_,_ un," Deidara whines, upon snatching the completed letter from Itachi's grip. "Write some goddamn poetry."

Itachi's eye twitches slightly. "Fine."

He snatches it back and, after a moment's thought, adds something more to it.

_Dark clouds wander _

_New friendships bloom_

_After the storm_

"That's really fucking random," Hidan says dismissively, passing the paper back to Itachi. "Write something more sensual and passionate."

Itachi takes the paper again, scowling.

_When I understand_

_Exactly how your mind works_

_We will not need words_

"That's a bit stalkerish, Itachi," Kisame chips in.

Now positively emanating murderous intent, Itachi reclaims the memo paper.

_Dreaming in moonlight_

_Feather brush the pounding surf_

_Kissing stars goodnight_

Kisame sighs. "That's as good as it's ever going to get. Send it, Itachi."

Itachi crooks his finger at the oozing slug. "Come here, Dorian Gray."

"Ewww," Deidara proclaims, hugging himself squeamishly. "You _named_ it, un?"

"What the fuck kinda name is Dorian Gray?" Hidan asks rhetorically.

Dorian Gray inches over to Itachi, and the Uchiha, using the piece of string that had bound the bruise salve, ties the letter to him. "Take this back to your kunoichi," Itachi proclaims, staring at the slug intently.

Dorian Gray gives a squelch of assent and disappears in a swirl of cherry blossoms, leaving a ring of five homicidal men sitting in a circle on Itachi's bed, staring after it.

"That whole incident was too fucking random to be allowed," Hidan decides.

"Not really," Itachi considers. "The Godaime Hokage utilizes slug summons; it is quite natural that she would have taught her student how to summon them as well."

"Now what, un?" Deidara asks, as he sculpts a likeness of Bruce the Finding Nemo shark – one that happens to look suspiciously like Kisame.

"I'm keeping that, you know," Kisame says shrewdly, as he observes the progress of Deidara's artwork.

Itachi leans back on his pillow and sighs. "Now, we wait."

-

_Konoha _

-

"Ino," Sakura protests, collapsing onto her bed, "writing to him was a dumb idea."

"Was not," Ino places her hands on her hips and glares.

"But he's a mass murderer!" Sakura retorts. "Corresponding with mass murderers is _not_ socially acceptable."

The blonde kunoichi takes a moment to survey Sakura's nearby collection of reading material. "Ah, see, that's where your logic is flawed. From what you tell me, he _may_ be a psychopathic mass murderer, but he was really, really nice to you."

"No," Sakura counters. "_Tobi_ was really, really nice to me. So was Deidara."

"Tobi – well, that's just not normal. And this Deidara you speak of," Ino trails off, curling the ends of her ponytail around her finger contemplatively. "Was he hot?"

"_Ino_!"

Ino lifts her hands defensively. "Just sayin'. Anyway, in a really socially retarded way, Itachi did sound like he was trying really hard to be nice. And, I mean, it also sounded like you had him really out of his depth."

"Oh, my _Buddha,_ Ino, I wasn't trying to seduce him or anything! I wasn't even flirting with him!" At this statement, Sakura immediately begins to cross-examine her own memories of her encounters with Itachi. Nope. Nothing. Nothing at all that could have given him the wrong idea.

"I didn't say you were! I just meant that he was really trying to be nice and then you gave him one of your freakishly hard punches as a farewell gift. It's kinda incongruous, you know?" Ino pouts, determined to get her point across.

Sakura blushes. "Yes, well—"

"Wait," Ino interrupts, a sudden idea having struck her. "Was _Itachi_ hot?"

"I – what?" Sakura sputters.

"You heard me, forehead girl."

Sakura tries to deny it. She really does. She tries her damndest to say that Uchiha Itachi was not physically attractive in the least; as a matter of fact, his long hair made him look girly, and the lines on his face made him look freakin' _old_ and not merely mature and handsome in an older-guy-but-not-too-old-to-be-creepy kinda way and—

Ino smirks. "Yeah, that's what I thought."

The beginnings of what promise to be a very interesting conversation is suddenly interrupted by a soft _poof_, and Ino shrieks loudly. "What the—"

"Calm down," Sakura admonishes, reaching out her hand, and her slug oozes into her lap affectionately. "It's just Mr. Darcy."

Ino hugs herself squeamishly. "You _named_ it?"

"Of course." Sakura taps the area between its feelers gently. "Ooh, look, they replied."

Ino and Sakura promptly begin reading the letter, which is written on the distinctive, red-cloud emblazoned Akatsuki memo paper, and written _in_ not Deidara's fashionable, slightly loopy script, but in an unfamiliar hand, narrow and elegant.

"…Wow." Ino says at last.

Sakura scowls, determined. "Ino, pen and paper, please?"

Obligingly, her best friend throws another pale green sheet of memo paper at her, and a purple gel pen. It isn't as dignified as Itachi's simple black ink, but it will have to do.

It takes her all of five minutes to write her reply, but then Ino insists on spending another fifteen analyzing every little subtlety of the letter, and she is attempting to convince Sakura to send it to a handwriting analyst, before Sakura snatches the letter back and ties it to Mr. Darcy, with strict instructions to deliver it to the Akatsuki Headquarters.

"Jeez, Sakura," Ino lies upside down on the bed, watching a stray moth flutter about the ceiling. "I hope you weren't too harsh. I bet those were his first ever haiku, too."

Sakura smiles, a little ferally. "Harsh? Me? _Never._"

-

_Akatsuki Headquarters_

-

They are still in the same place, sitting on Itachi's bed, while Tobi sings along to Muse at the top of his lungs and Hidan offers "unedited" versions of the same lyrics. Deidara has now expanded his sculpting endeavors to include Akatsuki parallels with the Finding Nemo cast, and is in the midst of creating Pein as Gill, the leader of the Tank Gang, while Itachi and Kisame play a rather competitive game of Rock-Paper-Scissors.

The state of comparative peace is suddenly disturbed by another _poof,_ and this time, the slug by the name of Dorian Gray – and Mr. Darcy, alternatively – appears in the midst of Itachi's bed. Similarly to the previous time, everybody except Itachi either screams or falls off. The slug, unconcerned with this chilly reception, oozes over to Itachi, sensing a friend.

Itachi pats the sensitive area between its feelers in a rare moment of compassion, before removing the enclosed letter.

_Dear Itachi,_

_You're welcome. Wow – first your eyes, now your face. At this rate I'm likely to become your personal physician or something. And I know you guys are really pansies and hate doing this, but will _somebody_ please give Tobi a hug for me?_

_Why are you sending me hugs and love? Creeper. Anyway, please tell Kisame that I enjoy the ANBU Romance series of yoga videos, and convey to Deidara that there is nothing wrong with dying his hair. A very good friend of mine thinks that he could benefit from going into a new shade of platinum blonde, so he would match her. If you could punch Hidan for me, too, I would love that. _

_I'm loving the sunglasses, by the way. I got twenty compliments on them today alone. _

_Oh, and the haikus?_

_1: That was really freakin' random, but not all too bad._

_2: Let me reiterate my point from the second paragraph: Creeper. That was so stalkerish it wasn't even funny._

_3: An improvement. You've been reading Twilight, haven't you? _

_And now, a haiku for you, Itachi: _

_My heart aches with pain_

_When I see you, I vomit_

_Die, away from me._

_Cordially (what was up with that "resentfully," bit last letter, anyway? What have I ever done to you?),_

_Sakura._

The letter drops out of Itachi's suddenly nerveless hands.

"That," Hidan observes sagely, "was a fucking _burn._"

Kisame peers into Itachi's eyes worriedly. "Itachi? Are you alright?"

Itachi looks up, and his eyes blaze with the crimson light of the Sharingan. "Tobi," he says purposefully. "Please bring me two more chocolate chip cookies and I will hug you afterward. Hidan, I will require another sheet of memo paper, or else I will follow Sakura's recommendation and punch you. Kisame, if you have any literary material regarding the art of haiku, I would find that highly useful as well."

Despite himself, Hidan inches away from Itachi; the murderous aura is positively _burning._ "What do you need all this shit for, anyway?"

It is likely that Deidara and Itachi have the tensest relationship between any Akatsuki members; despite this, Deidara smirks in understanding. "Let the literary courtship of Haruno Sakura by Uchiha Itachi commence, un?"

Itachi smiles menacingly, his eyes flashing with anticipation. "Bring it."

-

Meanwhile, in Konoha, a seemingly inexplicable shiver runs down the length of Sakura's spine.

"What's wrong, forehead girl?" Ino asks, concerned.

Sakura looks out the window. "I just felt – oh, never mind. It's nothing."

* * *

Oh snap.

Feedback very much appreciated! :)


	8. Shakespeare In Love

_Again, thank you so much to everybody who was kind enough to review. :) In addition, Shakespeare and all of his works are not mine. _

-

Itachi is chained to a wall. Literally. His head is pounding mercilessly, and it feels like the chakra has been drained out of every square inch of his body, leaving him utterly unable to even move a muscle.

Sakura sits across from him, in a straight-backed wooden chair, which is the only other item within the deserted dungeon cell. She tosses her hair back, the very picture of composure, and clears her throat delicately. He flinches at the words that he just _knows_ are going to come out of her mouth, but he can't seem to tear his gaze away from her—

"My heart aches with pain," Sakura says conversationally, staring him down with those cool, mint-green eyes, so deep that he could easily drown in them. "When I see you, I vomit."

Itachi cringes, struggling against his chains. "Cease and desist," he manages, his voice hoarse.

Sakura gets up and slowly makes her way to him, sleek and sinister in her tightly-fitting ANBU uniform. She strokes his chest with one finger, slowly, agonizingly, and leans in, so that he can feel her lips brush against the line of his jaw. "Die," the Leaf kunoichi pronounces softly, "away from me."

"No," he gasps, but Itachi can already feel himself slump against the restrictive hold of the chains, his predatory spirit deserting him; Sakura leans in, smirking at his defeat, and everything goes black—

"'Tachi-chan…"

"Oy, Uchiha, un!"

"Itachi-san?"

Hidan scowls menacingly, looking around at the group of Akatsuki clustered around Itachi's bed. "Let's cut the pansy-ass screwing around," he snarls.

Kisame looks at him, alarmed. "Don't—"

Hidan, unconcerned, drops the giant stack of books roughly on the sleeping Uchiha's side. "Wakey wakey, little red-eye!"

It takes one second for Itachi's eyes to snap open, roughly two seconds more for him to snap up and reach for Hidan, murderous intent written all over his face, and it takes another forty-five seconds for Konan and Kisame to wrestle him back against the wall. "_No,_ Tachi-chan," Konan says firmly, almost as if she is attempting to train a rebellious puppy into submission.

"Remember your breathing exercises," Kisame pleads. "Killing Hidan won't help anything!"

"Yes," Itachi pronounces, in his most dangerously calm tone, "it will."

Despite the fact that Hidan has plastered himself against the opposite wall and is currently using Deidara _and_ Tobi as human shields, he still manages to sneer at the restrained Uchiha prodigy. "No, you're just pissed that we all heard you whimpering in your sleep—"

"I was not _whimpering_!"

"You were too! You were making these sad little sounds like you were some kind of little fucking kitten that got kicked in the ribs—"

"Silence!" Konan screeches.

The word of the sole Akatsuki kunoichi is law; Hidan promptly shuts his mouth mid-tirade, letting go of Deidara and Tobi, who both collapse onto the floor, gasping for breath, and even Itachi stops struggling against Kisame's strong grip. Konan takes the opportunity to pull out one of the emergency chocolate chip cookies she keeps on hand for such occasions, and stuffs it into Itachi's mouth. "'Tachi-chan, you weren't whimpering," she says firmly. "It was just a bad dream."

"You have no idea," Itachi mutters under his breath, while chewing the cookie determinedly.

"What was that, un?" Deidara asks mischievously.

Itachi glares. "Nothing."

Deciding that Itachi has been sufficiently calmed by the cookie, Kisame releases him warily, while Konan keeps a stern eye fixed on Hidan, who is pretending to survey Kisame's collection of Finding Nemo figurines innocently.

"Would somebody have the courtesy to tell me," Itachi begins, his voice dripping with poison, "why I have been awakened in this abrupt manner by a fifty-pound pile of literary material making contact with my spleen?"

Konan, deciding things are safe now – or, at least as safe as possible, considering the circumstances – pulls out a chair and takes a seat, folding her hands in her lap serenely. "The rest of the boys saw fit to inform me of your blossoming correspondence with Haruno Sakura."

"_Men,_ un," Deidara interrupts, in a distinctly pained fashion.

Konan levels a skeptical look at him. "Deidara, the first time I saw you, you were trying to force Itachi to ingest Play-Doh. Do not tell me that has become a widely accepted standard for maturity and masculinity."

Deidara wilts noticeably. "Just because you're dating Leader-sama, un…"

"The coolest shinobi this side of forever," Tobi says, with no small amount of envy.

Konan rolls her eyes affectionately, and turns back to Itachi, who is inspecting the stack of books intently. "Shakespeare?"

"Yes, well – apparently Sakura found your poetry slightly…" Konan trails off, searching for the most diplomatic term that could be used in this situation. "_Wanting_."

At this point, Kisame, Deidara, Hidan, and Tobi are all hard-pressed to stifle their laughter in the most discreet fashion possible.

Itachi gives all of them looks that promise retribution of the most painful manner (as soon as Konan sees fit to leave the room) before rifling through the pages of the nearest Shakespearean manifesto. "And perusal of these works should help me refine my skills?"

"No, I think Shakespeare is fucking ridiculous," Hidan contributes helpfully.

"You just lack the sophistication necessary to appreciate the true artfulness of his prose, un," Deidara snorts.

Hidan cracks his knuckles menacingly. "Who are you calling unsophisticated, fucktard?"

"You are both in violation of rule number thirty-two," Kisame recites dutifully, before things have an opportunity to get any more heated. "Simmer down."

Konan gives him an appreciative look. "Thank you, Kisame. And, yes, 'Tachi-chan, Shakespeare's works are marvelous examples of prose. If poetry is what you choose to impress Sakura with, then I recommend studying his works thoroughly before your next attempt."

Itachi considers the formidable pile of books. "Kisame and I were slated to perform an assassination today."

Konan waves her hand dismissively. "Oh, yes, well, it turns out that the man got ran over by a bus early this morning. Which leaves you with two days to yourself." She rises, dusting her robes off, and gives him a small smile. "I trust you will use them wisely."

The rest of the room fairly bows flat to the ground as she glides toward the doorway; at the last possible second she turns around, regarding all of them sternly. "If I hear _one_ scream of pain, just one, all of you will lose Vitamin Water privileges for this week."

"Yes, Konan," they all chorus, somewhat resentfully, and she gifts them with a small smile, and slips out into the hallway.

They remain silent until they do not hear her light footsteps any longer; at that point, Itachi promptly leaves the shelter of the bed, grabs the copy of _A Midsummer Night's Dream,_ and hits Hidan across the face with it, while Deidara clamps his hands over Hidan's mouth to make sure he doesn't scream.

"What the fuck?" Hidan gasps, his eyes streaming with tears upon contact with the formidable tome. "I thought she said no violence!"

"Correction," Itachi says calmly. "She said that screams of pain were forbidden. As long as nobody screams, we are all safe. That was for waking me up at eight in the morning."

He then proceeds to the door, and holds it open expectantly. Tobi looks at him, shocked. "Itachi-san! Are you – are you…kicking us out?"

The orange-masked missing-nin's voice has started to tremble, and Itachi sighs to himself. "I am not kicking you out. I just require some peace and quiet in which to familiarize myself with this new form of poetry."

Tobi launches forward, taking the opportunity to cling to the Uchiha's still-magenta-sweater-covered arm. "We can be peaceful and quiet!"

Itachi directs baleful glares at the rest of his comrades, who are trying their best to look as harmless and inconspicuous as possible. Which is honestly rather difficult, when said group of comrades are comprised of a seven-foot-tall blue shark hybrid, a conspicuously shirtless and rosary-wearing man with silver hair, an androgynous artist with a ridiculously long blonde mane, which may or may not be fake, and…Tobi.

"Fine," he says simply, before returning to his bed, cracking open a copy of _Macbeth_, and beginning to read.

Itachi is halfway through the prologue before he can feign indifference no longer; he looks up to find Kisame, Hidan, Deidara, and Tobi staring at him with various amounts of incredulity written on their faces.

"What the hell, un?" Deidara asks, tilting his head.

Itachi raises an eyebrow. "What?"

Kisame takes pity on his partner. "Shakespeare's works," he says, "are works of _passion._" He waits a moment. "Itachi. You're many things – but _passionate_ isn't one of them."

"How is that an issue?"

"Read them aloud, un," Deidara flops back on Kisame's bed. "Get a feel for things. And then write your girl a masterpiece."

Itachi glares around at all of them.

"Motion seconded," Tobi chirps sweetly.

Kisame shrugs. "Third?"

"Fuckin' _word_," Hidan says, just for emphasis.

"I—"

"Sorry," Kisame interrupts sheepishly. "Overruled."

"I hate all of you," Itachi mutters.

Tobi bounces up and down cheerfully. "Just 'cause you say it doesn't mean it's true!"

In the next second, Itachi's pillow goes sailing through the air, makes contact squarely with Tobi's mask, and knocks him off Kisame's bed. Tobi yelps in dismay and curls up into a ball, as a defense mechanism.

Deidara smirks, now certain that his morning is officially off to a great start.

"When shall we three meet again," Itachi begins tonelessly, looking to the book again, "in thunder, lightning, or in rain?"

Hidan rolls his eyes exaggeratedly. "It's going to be a really fucking _long_ morning…" he whispers to Kisame.

Itachi ceases in his reading, grabs another pillow, and looks at the Akatsuki's resident zealot pointedly.

Hidan lifts his hands defensively. "I didn't say nothing!"

"Anything," Itachi corrects, somewhat resentfully, before continuing in his reading.

-

Itachi reads the play out loud for an hour straight; it is surprising that it has even succeeded in capturing his attention, but halfway through Scene III, he is officially, inescapably, irrevocably hooked. His eyes are fairly glued to the page for an hour, upon which he looks up for a fraction of a second, and finds Hidan, Kisame, Deidara, and Tobi all pantomiming the actions to go with his narration.

Deidara laughs nervously when he feels the weight of the Uchiha's glare on his back; he turns around slowly, attempting a smile – which really comes out looking more like a pained grimace. "Did you know theater is a form of art, un?"

Keeping his features as impassive as ever, Itachi carefully marks his page and sets down the book.

-

Pein and Konan are sitting in the kitchen, quietly discussing the whereabouts of the eight-tailed beast over their customary morning vanilla cappuccino and blueberry waffles, when their peaceful breakfast routine is suddenly interrupted by several loud thuds and a long, drawn-out wail of agony. By the time Pein puts down his fork, startled, the same sound is repeated, although, this time, accompanied by a long string of profanities.

They make their way out to the base of the staircase, and find Deidara curled up in a ball, and Hidan lying on top of him, muttering pained entreaties to his god. Tobi has flattened himself against the banister, moaning piteously, and Kisame lies motionless and facedown on the priceless Persian rug.

Pein takes a look at the pathetic tableau and wordlessly retreats to the kitchen, mumbling under his breath about worthless subordinates who lack social skills.

Konan, however, sinks to her knees, and helps pull the nearly-unconscious Hidan off the smothered-looking Deidara. "Thanks, un," the blonde missing-nin manages, wiping some of the blood away from the corner of his mouth. "Itachi's getting really _weird,_ un."

Konan hides a smile. "You know that Tachi-chan has always been – unique, Deidara."

Hidan pulls himself up into a sitting position, irritably nursing the considerable bump on the back of his head. "With all due respect, nee-san, you've turned him into a fucking _monster._"

The Amekagure kunoichi raises an eyebrow. "Explain?"

"Poetry freak," Hidan says, with a deep shudder. "He's getting really, disturbingly – into it. I wouldn't be surprised if he came down for dinner wearing a fruity little beret, you know."

This mental image takes a few moments to register in the minds of all present; when it does, nobody can stop themselves from recoiling in horror.

-

True to Hidan's prediction, Itachi spends the next several hours nailed up in his room, obsessively reading, rereading, and analyzing each Shakespearean work known to humankind. Halfway through _Hamlet,_ though, this extraordinary pursuit of poetry actually ceases to be about making any sort of impression on Sakura; somehow, inexplicably, he has found the perfect balm for his troubled soul.

Itachi withdraws from his literary analysis only for a quick bite of sushi, and that, only at Kisame's insistence. Much to the dismay of the population as a whole, though, for all of the five minutes that he is in the kitchen, he speaks only in couplets.

By the time that the rest of Akatsuki are sure that he is safely back up in his room again, they all fix accusing glares at Konan; she wilts slightly. "My apologies."

-

It is a little past sunset when Itachi finally places his pen down; his eyes swim, and he brings his left hand up to massage his right, slowly, as he catalogues the results of his work.

His satisfied reverie is broken abruptly by Kisame and Deidara's abrupt entrance into the room. "Oy, Uchiha, un, we're breaking your happy little poetic time because Leader-sama wanted Monopoly—ah, what the fuck?"

This last, horrified, interjection is caused by Deidara very nearly avoiding stepping on one of the hundreds of sheets of paper that litter every square inch of the room. Thankfully, Kisame just manages to grab him by the scruff of the neck, and the artist pinwheels, frightened. "What _is_ this, Itachi?" Kisame asks, intrigued – his partner has always been one for meticulous organization.

Itachi stands up and stretches. "My manuscript, of course," he deadpans.

Deidara stands on his tiptoes, in an attempt not to get even a hair on the papers in his immediate area; he realizes, now, that each sheet of Akatsuki memo paper has been written on, front and back, in Itachi's narrow, elegant hand. "_This_ is your poetic masterpiece for Sakura, un?"

Surprisingly unfazed by Deidara's tone, Itachi proceeds to carefully begin picking up each page, arranging them numerically in ascending order. "Yes. It is."

Kisame decides to help, figuring that there is no way in hell they could find the Monopoly board underneath all of this madness. After a few minutes, when they have all the pages compiled properly, the stack ends up being about half as tall as Deidara's face. "How lovely, un," Deidara winces. "Your prolificacy and devotion are only slightly scary." He pauses, considering something. "But how are you going to send it to Sakura dearest, as the slug whathisname isn't here, un?"

Itachi sets his manuscript on the nightstand wordlessly, before pulling out a weathered scroll inked with several complicated patterns. He cuts a small gash along the pad of his thumb, before pressing it firmly into the scroll.

Kisame blinks. "I didn't know you had an animal summons."

"That's because it's probably something fruity, like a duckling or something, un," Deidara whispers loudly.

Itachi ceases his summoning in order to give him a frosty glare. "In order of importance: The slug's name is Dorian Gray, that statement is rather ironic, coming from the individual who wears fluffy duckling slippers, and I have not utilized this particular summons in more years than I care to remember; it was assigned to me when I had been ANBU Captain."

"Ah," Kisame manages, while Deidara fairly squawks with indignation. However, the sound morphs into a muffled screech as soon as the sleek, crimson-eyed black wolf appears in the space between them.

Itachi spares a moment to give his rival an amused glance, even as he binds the stack of paper with a silky black ribbon and places it into the wolf's waiting mouth. "Haruno Sakura," he explains. "Kunoichi of the Leaf, pink hair, green eyes; only approach if she is alone."

To Deidara and Kisame's surprise, the wolf inclines its head slightly, very much like its master, and flickers out of the room.

"Weird, un," Deidara says, with a heartfelt shudder.

Kisame grins at his partner. "Well, now, since all you can do is wait for Sakura's gushing reply, in which she praises your poetic ability to the stars – you should join us for Monopoly."

Itachi brushes his bangs out of his tired eyes. "…Very well. The stakes?"

"Losing team takes the missions of the winning team for one week." Kisame winces. "Don't make me stuck with Hidan. _Please._"

Itachi smirks, before unearthing the folded-up Monopoly board from under his pillow. "Interesting indeed."

Deidara gives the Uchiha a dubious look as they proceed down the staircase. "Why did you have that under your pillow, un?"

"It helps me refine my intrinsic Monopoly skills, of course," Itachi deadpans.

Deidara sighs. "Why do I even _ask_, un?"

-

_Konoha_

-

"Did he reply yet?" Ino asks impatiently, practically bouncing on the heels of her feet.

Sakura casts a jaundiced eye at her best friend; having _that_ much energy at the end of a long day should be illegal. "This is the fifth time you've asked me, you know. And no." She pulls out the requisite yen notes, and hands them to Ayame with a smile. "Thank you; the ramen was delicious."

Ayame waves her away. "No way, you two, it's on the house." She gives the two kunoichi a mischievous look. "Who's this guy you two have been talking about all this time – Sakura-chan, do you have a secret admirer or something?"

Ino giggles; Sakura cringes at the very thought of Itachi being labeled as a _secret admirer_. "Hardly. It's just a really, really…weird…guy. Nothing to worry about; Ino's just being neurotic as usual." She flutters her fingers at the young woman in a farewell. "Good night!"

Ayame waves back, before proceeding to close up shop for the night, and Ino and Sakura begin their walk back to Sakura's apartment, which is just two minutes away. "I am so not neurotic," Ino protests, injured. "You didn't scare him away with totally harsh burnage of those haiku he wrote, did you?"

"I did not! It was just – much-needed constructive criticism, and an example of marvelous prose that he should attempt to emulate," Sakura says innocently.

Ino rolls her eyes exaggeratedly, flicking her ponytail over her shoulder in a way that is disturbingly reminiscent of a certain destructive artist whose acquaintance Sakura had made during her little…enforced vacation…with the Akatsuki. "_Sure._"

Sakura is just about to reply when the wolf appears in front of her; her witty retort dies in her throat, just as she flings an arm out to prevent Ino from going any further. The animal is large, and its coat is the silkiest black she has ever seen; it would blend into the night completely, if it were not for its scarlet eyes.

Ino squeaks, terrified. "What the—"

As if in response, the wolf advances on them, and both kunoichi take a step back, before Sakura realizes that its posture isn't aggressive in the least, instead, it drops its head, and Ino catches her breath, having noticed the silvery seal between its ears first. "Sakura, it's an animal summons," he sighs. "I don't know anyone around here with something that scary, though."

When the realization hits her, the breath leaves Sakura's body in a long sigh. "That's because only psychopathic S-ranked missing-nin would choose something as purposely intimidating as a black wolf," she whispers, stepping forward tentatively and holding her hand out.

The wolf takes that as invitation enough; he trots forward, gently depositing the formidable stack of ribbon-bound paper in the kunoichi's outstretched hand, and rubbing his snout against said hand, in search of approval.

It is approval that Sakura readily gives; she strokes the wolf's silky fur admiringly. "Aww, you're not too bad, are you?" she coos as she straightens. "Go back to your master, Fluffy," – she hesitates – "and thank him for me, if you will."

Fluffy – also known as BloodRain by his master – inclines his head in understanding, and vanishes.

Ino takes a shaky breath, stepping forward to stand beside her best friend. "Wow," she exhales, staring at the giant stack of paper that Sakura holds. "It looks like he wrote you a _novel._"

Sakura lifts it to eye level, inspecting it warily. "Oh, Buddha, you're right."

Ino shakes her head. "Damn, Sakura, if Kiba wrote me a novel, I would be ecstatic."

"That's because Kiba isn't a psychopathic mass-murdering S-ranked missing-nin and notorious criminal," Sakura replies dryly.

Ino flops her hand dismissively. "Trivial detail; as long as he cares about you, right? Ooh, it looks like we're at your place – well, I'll just leave you alone to bask in the glory of your novel." She smiles mischievously. "See you tomorrow, Forehead Girl. Call me and read out passages if it's really that freakin' awesome. And I don't care if it's one of those erotic-type novels detailing all the stuff you guys are going to do to each other, you're not running off with him just yet."

Sakura chokes; the idea of Itachi writing Jiraiya-type novels is, quite possibly, the sickest and most freakish concept in the history of forever. "What the _hell_, Ino?"

Ino waves cheerfully, before forming a set of hand seals and disappearing. "I love you too!"

Muttering darkly about the evils of well-intentioned best friends, Sakura unlocks her apartment, practically falls into it, and promptly throws the manuscript down on the coffee table; she blinks at the rather solid sound it makes upon contact with the aged wood.

She changes into something more comfortable and pours herself a glass of warm milk – after all, she loves to live the vicarious life – before settling in the worn sofa in front of the coffee table. Sakura stares at it for a while.

Logically, she should ignore this. Nothing good is going to come of her reading it. But, she is forced to admit, if Itachi had decided to reply, in spite of the harsh burnage she had issued to him in their previous missive – then maybe he _is_ serious about this. Besides, it seems to just be calling to her from the center of her coffee table; saying, in _his_ soft, silky voice, _touch me. Hold me. Read me. Discover every one of my secrets, lay me bare underneath your fingers. I am wrong for you in every possible way, but I am _so_ very willing._

Sakura's left eye twitches slightly.

In the next second, the manuscript is in her hands.

_Dear Sakura, _it begins,

_Hopefully you will find this a little bit more palatable. _

_- Itachi._

Sakura begins to read.

-

She literally burns the midnight oil in her attempt to finish Itachi's freakin' novel. By the time she is done, it is one in the morning, and Sakura _should_ have been barely able to keep her eyes open, but she is, inexplicably, wide awake. She pads over to the desk and withdraws a sheet of memo paper and the customary gel pen, rubbing her eyes.

_Dear Itachi,_

_I'm flattered. Really. That you would write this whole epic poem in one day, just to win my approval…or something…is amazing. _

_However, this piece of literature (you should title it, you know) is also sick, twisted, tormented, and I thought the amount of deaths were excessive and unnecessary, as well. Despite all of that, though – it was enthralling. Gripping. If it were anybody else, I may even call it genius, albeit a very strange kind of genius. _

_Cordially,_

_Sakura _

It should be longer, she supposes; honestly, she could write a full-length academic paper dissecting the subtle nuances of the work, of his prose, of his meanings and motivations in writing this, but it is late, and reading this has given her the specific brand of headache that comes from thinking and analyzing something far too ambiguous.

Summoning Mr. Darcy is an easy matter; the slug pops into existence, Sakura cuddles him for a moment, and then ties the letter to his pleasantly squishy midsection. "Uchiha Itachi, the usual location," she instructs.

The slug squelches agreeably, and disappears. Sakura leans back on her sofa with an exhausted sigh, unable to resist flipping back to the latter pages of the manuscript.

-

_Akatsuki Headquarters_

-

The rather heated game of Monopoly has just come to an end, and Itachi and Kisame retire to their rooms, basking in the glory of being the winning team; Deidara and Tobi will be performing all of their assignments for a week.

Kisame opens the door first, stretching as he does so. "Itachi, your slug is back," he yawns mightily.

Itachi quickens his step to reach his bed; he pokes Dorian Gray between the feelers peacefully, and then withdraws Sakura's letter, reading through her thoughts quickly. She had finished it within the night – impressive.

_Dear Sakura,_

_Do not flatter yourself. I did not do it to win your approval. _

_Deidara assured me that _Untitled_ is actually a rather good title for an artistic work, as it prevents the reader from forming any misconceptions or prejudices based on the title alone._

_Sick, twisted, tormented; I prefer the term _realistic. _Death is a natural part of life, and I did not intend on forming something idealistic, sugarcoated, or overly perfect. I suppose that you are just one of the individuals that insists on forming an overly strong empathy and degree of personal feeling and identification with the characters of a literary work. However, I am pleased that you found it – enthralling. If I had written it under an alias, as well, I would have had the immense personal satisfaction of having you label it as worthy of being written by a 'genius'; I can think of no higher honor. _

_There is no 'normal' kind of genius, Sakura. I had assumed that you would know this by now._

_- Itachi_

_Postscript: Does this mean that you renege on your previous haiku?_

-

It is a mere fifteen minutes before she gets her reply; Sakura spends that time dozing lightly, until Mr. Darcy appears, with a squelch, on her forehead.

_Dear Itachi,_

_Ooh, pardon me. So, why _did_ you write it and then share it with me? _

_Since when do you listen to Deidara?_

_You have a point, I suppose. And, by the way, it's kind of hard to avoid forming 'an overly strong empathy and degree of personal feeling and identification with the characters of a literary work', when one of the characters in question shared my name and qualities. And yours. And Deidara's and Kisame's and the names of various people I'm acquainted with in Konoha—yeah. You get the picture. What's up with that? Anyway, if you ever decide to secede from Akatsuki, you know that you can make a great career as a poet. Even though your sarcasm translates suckishly onto paper. For a second I honestly believed that you would be happy that I could consider you a literary genius. _

_I do know this by now. I'm just saying you're a little more unconventional than even I'm used to. _

_Cordially,_

_Sakura_

_P.S (who says postscript, anyway?): I might. Perhaps. Maybe. _

-

Kisame is sound asleep by this point, but the gentle blue light given off by the lamp never bothers him, a fact that Itachi is secretly thankful for.

_Dear Sakura,_

Itachi pauses, and frowns; he has no satisfactory answer to that…_I thought you would enjoy it, _he writes, even though it strikes too close to home for his comfort.

_You are right. I have decided to title this, "Ezekiel." _

_True. I found it was easier to write about people I have some familiarity with. In all honesty, I enjoy the sensation of writing something unsettling and potentially distressing, because of the emotional impact it has on the reader. It involves them more, in many ways. _

_Yes, because I would really secede from Akatsuki in order to sell poetry. Perhaps it could be a side career and a way to increase funding. Intriguing._

_My sarcasm does not translate _suckishly,_ as you so maturely put it, onto paper. You are simply inadequate at picking up on it. As a matter of fact, though, I am rather satisfied that you consider me a literary genius, as that is a definite improvement over 'creepy,' 'weird,' and 'screwed-up.' _

_Who says unconventional is negative?_

_- Itachi_

_Postscript: _I _say postscript, obviously. And I would appreciate a little more specificity than that._

-

Upon realizing that she is actually _smiling_ at reading Itachi's latest missive, Sakura physically attempts to slap said smile off her face. She chalks it up to the fact that it's two in the morning, and she is currently in a rather heated correspondence with the public enemy number one of her village, two things which are so completely ridiculous and _wrong_ that it's probably just messing with her psyche.

_Dear Itachi,_

_I did enjoy it. Wow, you're pretty thoughtful. _

_Ezekiel? That's really – random. _

_That's something only you would come up with. Of course I was emotionally involved and I cried – when I died, when you died, when Deidara died, when Tsunade-shishou died…you suck, Uchiha. _

_Wait, what? No! You can't use my idea to create funding for your evil organization! That is so not cool!_

…_Hey. You can be a creepy, weird, screwed-up literary genius too, okay?_

_I didn't say that at all. Actually, I find unconventional – to some degree – fascinating._

_It's getting late; I may go to bed soon. If I don't reply, it means that I've finally succumbed to the temptation of my warm bed and a good night's sleep._

_P.S: That's interesting; you're the only individual I've ever met who says postscript. Why don't you just say P.S? And, fine, I take it back. I don't vomit when I see you._

-

Itachi smirks to himself; his hands and eyes are nearly numb with exhaustion, but he senses progress.

_Dear Sakura,_

_I am. In response to your second paragraph, would you rather I name it after you?_

_You cried upon reading of my death. I find this highly touching indeed. _

_When a million-yen profit is drawn from this published work, I will request that Leader-sama name it the Sakura Fund in your honor. _

_Very well. Rest well, Sakura. _

_Vindicated (I read your postscript),_

_Itachi_

-

Sakura is nearly falling asleep, but she pens one last reply. "That's it for tonight, Mr. Darcy, I promise," she tells her beloved slug drowsily.

_Dear Itachi,_

_In sequential order:_

_1: Yes, actually._

_2: Damn you. _

_3: Do it and die. _

_Good night. And sweet dreams or whatever. …If you sleep, that is, and aren't like some weird kind of vampire…thing. _

_Too tired to think of an appropriate closing,_

_Sakura _

-

Itachi glances down at the kunoichi's latest letter, and Dorian Gray gives a soft, inquisitive squelch. He picks the slug up and places it on his nightstand. "…Thank you."

Dorian Gray oozes affectionately on his hand.

Kisame stirs, his sleep momentarily interrupted. "You're up late," he mumbles, "or…early. Whatever. How are things going?"

Itachi reclines against the pillows, and allows himself a satisfied smirk. "Very well indeed."

* * *

I'm really sorry it isn't as OMG-funny as the rest, but this is a fairly transitional chapter, and a turning point for events to come. Besides, Itachi and Sakura needed to get used to actual correspondence. :O

Anyway, any and all feedback is very much appreciated. :)


	9. This Is Not A Date

_Again, thank you so much to everybody who reviewed. :)_

_-_

"This is a violation of ethics," Itachi hisses, under his breath.

Deidara shoots him an incredulous look. "What are you talking about? You're Uchiha freakin' Itachi, un. You don't even _have_ ethics."

Itachi takes a deep breath, and tries his best to restrain himself from pushing Deidara off the tree branch they are precariously balanced on.

"Besides, un," the artist whispers, in an attempt to placate his moody teammate. "You're not really _doing_ anything. We're supposedly just here to watch over Tobi and make sure _he_ doesn't do anything retarded, un."

Itachi rolls his eyes; he had sworn never to spend any amount of time alone with Deidara ever again, but spending time with Deidara _and_ Tobi is, actually, even worse. "How much longer?"

Deidara brushes his bangs away from his face, and the metal scope covering his left eye extends as he scans the interior of the building. "Keep your pants on, Uchiha; he's almost here, un."

True to his word, not even a minute later, Tobi approaches the window, clutching the requisite scrolls tightly. "I did it, guys!" he whispers, obviously pleased with himself.

Itachi quickly claims the scroll, sliding it into one of the inner pockets of his cloak. "You were careful to leave no traces of your presence?"

"Of course not!" Tobi slides out of the window easily, joining Deidara and Itachi on the overly-crowded branch. Displaying his usual lack of concern for the need for personal space, he strikes a dramatic pose, forcing the two other Akatsuki members to cringe against the trunk, while simultaneously attempting to keep a significant distance away from each other – which is much harder than it sounds. "I was totally undetectable!"

"You better have been, un," Deidara mutters under his breath. "If the Konoha people all show up at Headquarters tomorrow morning because they've followed the trail of your lollipop wrappers, or whatever – you're dead, un."

Itachi surveys their surroundings, narrowing his eyes. "All clear," he pronounces softly.

Their retreat from Konoha is swift and silent – apart from Deidara's teasing Itachi about whether he wants to stop and pay his girlfriend a visit, the subsequent sound Deidara's face makes when it is introduced to the side of the passing post office building, and Tobi's wondering aloud about whether they really _could_ visit dear Sakura-chan, and perhaps make her some waffles while she's sleeping, so that she could wake up to a delicious breakfast in the morning?

…Much to Itachi's despair, their return to Akatsuki Headquarters actually isn't silent. In the least.

"Why did we do this again, un?" Deidara grouses, as they approach the borders of their territory.

Itachi makes it a point to avoid stepping into a bluebird's nest. "Leader-sama and Konan's orders."

Deidara is less careful; his foot tangles in a few of the stray twigs, and he almost pitches forward, off the branch. "Yeah, I should have known that we didn't just break into Hokage Tower and steal a bunch of copies of S-ranked mission assignment scrolls for kicks, un."

Tobi pauses for a moment, in order to leave an unwrapped lollipop in the nest, as a sort of little present for the cute birdies. "Sarcasm doesn't become you, Deidara-senpai," he chirps. "Besides, it was fun! Like a field trip!"

Itachi smirks slightly. "It would have been more _fun _if there had been some amount of challenge involved."

Deidara snorts. "I don't know about you, un, but I'd much rather prefer an easy break-in than a long, agonizing, excessively bloody and painfully dragged-out battle between us and some weird little Konoha shinobi that has the potential to end in a grand deus ex machina, anyway. If you feel that strongly about it, un, you could probably tip off your girlfriend and ask her to pull some strings and beef up security, though."

They land in front of Headquarters, and Itachi performs the requisite hand seals necessary to uncover the hidden entrance. "I'll pass. And Sakura is not my _girlfriend._"

"Whatever you say, un," Deidara rolls his eyes and steps into the main lair.

"We're home, guys!" Tobi sings cheerfully.

"Shut the fuck up and go back to where you came from!" Hidan snarls, from a distant hallway.

Konan emerges from a side room, rubbing her eyes tiredly. "You three took an awfully long time."

"Tobi insisted on rescuing a kitten from a tree on the way there," Itachi deadpans, before extricating the series of scrolls from his cloak and handing them to the Akatsuki second-in-command.

Konan takes them with a nod of thanks, before gesturing to the table. "Please sit; Deidara, will you summon everybody?"

Deidara grins somewhat evilly. "Team meeting _right now, _un!" he hollers, his voice echoing through the house, and Tobi, Itachi, and Konan all flinch.

Pein is the first to flicker into his seat at the head of the table, and he casts a jaundiced eye at the lounging artist. "I am fairly certain there are more dignified and appropriate ways to summon fellow members to a meeting," he says levelly.

In the next second, Hidan appears, next to Tobi, clutching a butcher knife in a rather anticipatory fashion. "Who died?" he asks, sounding inappropriately excited.

Kisame is the last to join them; the disgruntled look on his face tells everybody that this had _better_ be important, because he is missing the latest new episode of _ANBU Romance._

Konan slides the scrolls over to Pein, and he smiles at her slightly, before opening and unrolling them, so that the entire table leans over in order to read them with greater ease. The Leader's orange eyes narrow in concentration as he surveys the information disclosed within. "It appears that Hyuuga Neji and Nara Shikamaru are assigned to the Takashi assassination operation as well."

Deidara fairly squeaks in indignation. "Double-dealing, un! That operation was supposed to be ours!"

Hidan tests the tip of the butcher knife against his fingers. "Can we kill them?"

"No," Pein replies calmly. "It would not be wise. However, they are scheduled to mobilize two days from now; if you two leave tomorrow morning, you could complete the requisite assassinations, collect the complete fees, and return here by the time the Konoha shinobi even arrive in Mist."

Konan examines the scrolls. "Is that it?"

"That is the only thing that could prove a conflict to our interests," Pein assents, before frowning. "Deidara – _what_ are you doing?"

The blonde missing-nin has pulled one of the scrolls to himself, scanning it with obvious interest. "Hey, Uchiha! Your girlfriend's on here, un!"

Dignity prevents Itachi from immediately and violently taking possession of said scroll, although, correctly reading the expression on his face, Kisame reaches out, obligingly smacks Deidara in the back of the neck, and obtains the scroll. "Hey, he was right," Kisame observes, over Deidara's moans of pain. "She's slated for an S-ranked assassination of some troublesome Konoha missing-nin."

Pein stands up and favors his dysfunctional organization with something that may have possibly been a tiny smile. "As long as said troublesome Konoha missing-nin is not Itachi, you all have license to do as you will about this – provided you act in a discreet and rational manner."

Hidan, Deidara, Tobi, and Kisame all give him dumbfounded looks. Itachi raises an eyebrow.

"Never mind," the Leader mutters, heading back to his room. "That was too asinine and impossible a request to ever work out."

Tobi blinks. "Hey, guys," he says, in a stage whisper. "I think we just got insulted."

"You don't say," Itachi deadpans.

Konan tries her best not to laugh as she crafts a paper lynx from one of the spare scroll copies. "Hidan, Deidara; remember that you need to mobilize at five tomorrow morning. I assume that you are both familiar with the instructions – do you need any last-minute supplies?"

Deidara gives the blue-haired kunoichi his most angelic smile. Hidan attempts to imitate it, but on him, it just looks scary. "Just some more of your wonderful cookies, un!"

Hidan nods in frantic assent.

Konan sighs softly and retreats to the kitchen, mumbling something about the rest of them needing to learn how to make their own damn cookies.

Deidara stretches luxuriously. "Well, un," he addresses the remaining crowd. "Good night, I guess. Try not to blow yourselves up in the two days we'll be gone. Do something _artistic_ for a change. And, Uchiha, un – it would be my advice to take advantage of the fact of Sakura being out of Konoha on her own, if you get my drift?"

"But only if you don't fuck it up by doing something scary and stalkerish," Hidan contributes helpfully.

Itachi leans back against his chair. "I will try my level best," he says sardonically.

Hidan returns to his lair, tossing his butcher knife from hand to hand, and Deidara slinks off to his room surreptitiously. This effort, on his part, is completely wasted; Tobi notices, and bounds off after him, sobbing about how much he will miss his 'best friend forever.'

This leaves Itachi and Kisame sitting in silence; in the absence of Konan's polite company, Kisame flings his feet on the table as he surveys the mission scroll. "So," he drawls, at last. "What are you going to do?"

"I intend to do nothing."

Kisame flicks Konan's deserted origami lynx at him. "Come on, one-sentence replies aren't going to cut it for this particular conversation."

Itachi sighs, easily deflecting the lynx. "…Fine. I do not see why performing any actions should be necessary; my correspondences with her are completely adequate, and have been recently approaching a state of civility."

Kisame smirks, and leans toward his partner. "You're telling me you wouldn't like to actually_ see_ her again?"

"…I feel no particular need for it." The Uchiha prodigy fixates his gaze on a particular spot on the ceiling.

The shark-man clasps his hands together, assuming an innocent posture. "Really?"

Itachi looks over at him, his normally impassive composure cracked. "Did you just question me?"

"Me?" Kisame asks, widening his eyes. "Question _you_? Never."

"You had a tone," Itachi glares. "A tone of skepticism."

Kisame gasps dramatically. "But I've known you since you were a mere sprog of thirteen! I would never be skeptical of your word or abilities!"

Itachi buries his head in his hands, unable to stand it. "Kisame," he says dangerously. "You are disturbing the natural order of things. I will not have it."

Kisame stands up, giving him a decidedly shark-y smile. "I'll stop disturbing the natural order of things after you give me all the details about your lovely date with Sakura."

"_What_—"

Kisame flutters his fingers at him in a farewell. "Remember, she leaves tomorrow morning, and I'd say she should be done by tomorrow night. The Rusty Hangnail is a great dinner place, by the way."

Itachi glares at Kisame until he leaves the room, chuckling softly to himself as he goes. Then Itachi settles for glaring at the offensive spot on the ceiling, while cursing every aspect of his life.

When this gets repetitive and redundant, he proceeds to the kitchen in search of some Vitamin Water; instead, he finds Konan, carefully crafting a set of very realistic-looking paper chocolate chip cookies. Itachi raises an eyebrow inquisitively, and she ceases her careful arrangement of a brown tissue chocolate chip. "We're out of cookie dough," she says in explanation. "The amount of funding we spend on it is just slightly frightening. Besides…" she gives him a tiny smile. "Envisioning their reactions is amusing."

Itachi nods in assent, pouring himself a glass of Vitamin Water.

"I assume you'll be seeing Sakura tomorrow night?" Konan inquires, putting the finishing touches on her pseudo cookie.

The Uchiha frowns through his special Acai-Blueberry-Pomegranate mix. "I suppose," Itachi says, enunciating each word as if it is in a foreign language. "For…dinner. At the Rusty Hangnail, apparently."

"I see. Have you asked her?"

Itachi is unable to suppress a small twitch at the very thought. "Hardly."

Konan slides the batch of pseudo-cookies into a plastic container. "You know," she says mildly, "If he was so inclined, Pein could tell you that surprising an S-ranked kunoichi when she least expects it is hardly – wise."

Itachi considers it, while deciding that desperate times call for desperate measures, and measuring himself a liberal amount of the Dragonfruit formula. "Would he be able to tell me this out of personal experience?"

Konan's lips quirk up at the corners. "Perhaps. But it is up to you."

Itachi leans against the counter wordlessly. "If she had any inkling of this, however," he comments at last, "I have reason to believe she would barricade herself within the safety of Hokage Tower and never come out."

This time, Konan cannot repress a soft laugh. "Give her more credit than that, Tachi-chan. Now, go and get some sleep."

With these words of wisdom, the kunoichi glides out of the kitchen, leaving Itachi very much alone, with the beginnings of a plan brewing in his head.

-

_Konoha_

-

It is five in the morning, and Sakura is being slowly strangled to death.

"Ino," she gasps. "Let. _Go._"

Despite this impassioned plea, her best friend only holds on tighter. "During your last mission, you got captured by the Akatsuki and Uchiha Itachi fell in love with you! Who _knows_ what you're going to get up to now?"

Sakura claws at her, to no avail. "Don't yell it like that, and he's not in love with me, Ino! He's just being – confused and weird! _I can't freakin' breathe!_"

Much to her relief, Ino finally lets go, looking very, very worried. "Are you sure you'll be back by tonight?" she asks anxiously.

"_Yes,_" Sakura assures her. "Come on, it's just the routine hunter-nin type stuff. I've done it a million times before; I'll be fine."

"If you're not in your apartment by tomorrow morning," Ino proclaims, poking her in the forehead. "Kakashi-sensei, Yamato, Sai, Naruto, and I are all starting a rescue expedition, no matter what."

Sakura rolls her eyes affectionately. "Whatever, Ino-pig. I'm out of here."

She makes her escape quickly, her feet making light contact with the rooftops as she seeks the quickest route out of her village. The sun is just slipping over the horizon, punctuating the darkness with soft golden light, and Sakura blinks as she passes the post office building. There seems to be an impression of a _face_ on the side of it.

In a moment of curiosity, she hops over there, observing the impression. Whoever had done that must have been pretty pissed off – and strong, too. The features of the impression are vaguely familiar—

When the realization hits her, Sakura's jaw drops. She hadn't realized that she had hit Sai _that_ hard. And she could have _sworn_ his face had made an impression on the side of the Academy, not on the post office…

Feeling more than a little puzzled, Sakura continues on her way. Neji has been assigned to guard duty; he waves her through security easily, and it is a matter of minutes before she has reached the great forest outside of Konoha. Sensing this particular missing-nin's chakra signature is a simple matter, and it isn't long before Sakura is following a trail due north, intent on the hunt.

-

_Simple matter._

Sakura curses herself for thinking those stupid, mission-jinxing words in the first place, and swings a vicious right hook toward the Konoha missing-nin.

Through some nasty fluke, he barely manages to dodge it, and disappears into the twilight shadows that cloak the forest.

Sakura barely manages to restrain her snarls of utter fury – the bastard had managed to cut a nasty gouge in her upper arm, and she is _pissed._

-

The Konoha missing-nin that is currently the target of the pink-haired kunoichi's considerable ire makes his escape as he winds through the dark, dense forest, barely able to believe his good fortune.

That is, until a very familiar figure steps out from the shadow of a nearby tree, and Yamazaki Koto is unable to stifle his gasp of horror, promptly retreating into a tree. He had left Konoha a year ago, but every shinobi who had ever looked at a bingo book knows this guy's name –

"I'm not affiliated with Konoha anymore," he babbles rapidly, pointing to the slash through his forehead protector. "If you want anyone to wreak your horrible vengeance upon, look that way. Really scary Konoha kunoichi with pink hair, freakishly strong but I'm sure you could take her—"

His voice trails off abruptly, likely due to the icy hand that has curled mercilessly around his throat. "Get back there," the owner of said hand says, dispassionately.

Koto chokes. "What the – are you _crazy_?"

The hand tightens, and he gags. "It depends on whom you ask."

Then, Koto is lifted bodily off his feet, and he realizes, terrified, that he is being steered back toward the clearing. And the scary girl. "Why?" he rasps.

Itachi chooses not to answer that particular query; it would be far too troublesome. He throws the Konoha missing-nin back into the clearing, and the frightened man reaches up to massage his severely bruised throat.

"Do not put up too much of a fight," Itachi instructs impassively. "I have dinner reservations at eight."

Despite the fact that his neck feels as if it is on fire and breathing is quite difficult, Yamazaki Koto looks up at the notorious Akatsuki member incredulously. "_What_—"

Itachi vanishes into the shadows, as if he had never been there, and Koto turns around, hearing, with a dawning sense of horror, the cracking of a pair of very familiar knuckles.

"So you've decided to come back, I see." Haruno Sakura steps out of the other side of the forest, her injuries completely healed, and her green eyes glittering menacingly. She lifts her right fist and blows on the knuckles lightly, her gaze meeting his. "Big mistake."

-

"One gin and vodka martini, shaken not stirred, please." Sakura sighs to the bartender wearily, throwing herself down on the high wooden stool and burying her aching head in her hands.

The elderly man ceases in his wiping of several dubious-looking glasses, obviously surprised that such an elegant order would come from the mouth of such a bruised and battered shinobi. "Coming right up."

The martini is in her grasp within a minute, complete with an olive of suspicious quality bobbing on the surface. Sakura sips it, too exhausted to be picky. The Rusty Hangnail, indeed – an establishment of debatable quality, to say the least. Normally she would keep a five-mile distance between herself and such an odd place, but she is starving and running low on chakra, and this is the only restaurant within decent traveling distance.

In all honesty, it isn't _that_ terrible, she supposes. It has the simple wooden décor typical of many small eateries, although this room is crowded with tables and chairs in various states of disrepair. There is an unusually elegant silk screen separating this room from another, though, and Sakura thinks that it's probably nicer over there – for customers willing to pay a greater amount of money.

She fidgets on the uncomfortable barstool; the intense taijutsu had, as always, taken an indecent toll on her muscles. Staring down into the depths of her pale green martini, Sakura winces at how tired she looks.

Sakura vaguely notices the presence that slips into the stool beside her, almost too tired to even keep her head up – until said presence places one hand lightly on the small of her back. "Shiskikura-san," a dreadfully familiar voice says, in a smooth, even tone. "I believe I made reservations for a table for two at eight?"

Sakura freezes suddenly, half believing that this is some kind of twisted hallucination brought on by extreme stress.

_Oh, fuck, no. This is some _other_ guy. Some random guy who just happens to sound like – him. _

Sakura looks up, and finds her eyes making contact with none other than Uchiha Itachi.

Shishkikura Hokisai, owner of the Rusty Hangnail, looks around sharply, alarmed to see the pink-haired girl from earlier choking violently on her martini. "Is she alright?"

To her horror, Itachi moves his hand slightly up her spine; the image of a gentle, reassuring young man concerned about his girlfriend. "She is fine," he assures Shiskikura calmly. "Just a little – startled." He smiles a little. "It was intended to be a surprise."

Underneath the table, Sakura kicks Itachi viciously and repeatedly in the shin, as her choking fit subsides. His expression never wavers. "Our table, please?"

As if things couldn't get any worse, as Shishkikura hastens to escort them from the bar to the room behind the silk screen, Itachi moves his arm to drape it casually around Sakura's shoulders. It is the kind of unthinking gesture that any guy would do while out with his girlfriend – and also, a calculated reminder that she has three pressure points that are completely vulnerable to him at the moment.

"What are you doing here?" Sakura hisses softly, between clenched teeth.

Itachi smirks his amusement as Shishkikura slides the silk screen aside for them. "I happened to be in the neighborhood."

"Your table," Shishkikura announces, gesturing around the room. True to Sakura's original prediction, _this_ area of the Rusty Hangnail is considerably fancier than the exterior; it is the picture of luxuriously exquisite décor and taste. He bows to Itachi fawningly. "I hope everything is to your liking."

"Oh, it is," Itachi murmurs. "My thanks."

In the few seconds she has before the guy goes back to the front of the restaurant, Sakura tries her best to communicate to him, with her panicked eyes, that everything is _not_ right here, that she is not just some girl out with some guy, that she is being forced against her will to be alone with an S-ranked criminal and that this is probably going to end in some kind of freakish kidnapping attempt—

The expression in Shishkikura's eyes soften, as his gaze meets Sakura's. "Ah, the beauty of young love."

Thankfully, Shishkikura turns and leaves just in time to miss Sakura's attempts to bash her brains out against the nearest wall.

"Oh, no," Sakura says, taking a ragged breath and recovering herself, turning to face the man who is, right now, nothing less than her worst enemy, "you didn't."

Itachi raises an eyebrow at her, gesturing to the booth with a kind of languid grace. "I believe I did."

Sakura has no choice but to slink into her seat, glowering, as Itachi slides in across from her. He is dressed impeccably, if a little monochromatically, in black pants and a turtleneck in such a deep shade of blue that it is nearly black. For obvious reasons, the slashed forehead protector is nowhere to be found, and the Sharingan is, for once, absent from his gaze. As she watches him warily, he lifts one of the elaborately designed little square plates and offers it to her. "Sushi?" he inquires calmly, as if the fact that she is dining with the number one enemy of her village is completely normal.

Sakura attempts a smile, and accepts the offered sushi roll delicately.

Itachi blinks once. _Success?_

Then Sakura pelts him with the sushi roll in question. "What. The. _Hell_?" she asks, in an outraged whisper.

Itachi realizes, dazed, that he has rice on his shoulder. "…You willfully assaulted me with a culinary dish," he manages, at last. "People have died for lesser offenses."

Sakura takes a sip from her new and much fresher martini, slamming it down on the table. "You – you willfully kidnapped me and forced me to heal your eyes and wrote a book where I died and cornered me in a shady culinary establishment for unknown purposes! I've castrated people for lesser offenses!"

They glare at each other for a few moments, before Itachi sighs, lifting his chopsticks and twirling them through his long fingers, before abruptly switching gears. "Tell me, Sakura, are you hungry?"

The question takes her for surprise, and Sakura blinks at the non sequitur. "…What's it to you?"

"Look at your plate," he drawls.

When Sakura, does, indeed, look down at her plate, Itachi has the satisfaction of seeing the expression in her eyes melt from anger into one of pure, unadulterated desire and longing, before she looks back up at him. Thankfully, the look of desire and longing is still in her eyes, and if Itachi tilts his head slightly to the right, he can almost believe that said expression is directed at him – and not at the plate of lightly grilled chicken bites served with slow-cooked noodles and hoisin sauce in front of her.

"Itachi," Sakura says, and she is mortified to hear that it comes out as more of a moan, and less of a threatening snarl.

"That could be severely misinterpreted if taken out of context," Itachi observes smoothly, channeling his inner Deidara – which is a frightening thought indeed.

Sakura blushes fiercely, relieved that her voice has returned to its normal tone. "This is manipulation," she bites out. "Blatant, base psychological manipulation."

"It is nothing of the sort," he counters. "It is just a special order of your favorite dish."

"How very considerate of you," Sakura mumbles, looking back down at the tempting plate in front of her.

She glances up to find Itachi surveying her, a look of subtle amusement playing about his face. "You could eat," he offers, taking a delicate bite of his shrimp tempura. "You would not betray your village by the simple act of taking your chopsticks and twining them around some of those hot, steaming noodles—"

"Close your eyes," Sakura snaps.

"Pardon?"

The kunoichi flails agitatedly, almost upsetting a good deal of the lit candles that have been distributed around them. "Just do it! Please!"

Itachi closes his eyes without further comment, but the length of his eyelashes enables him to survey his unlikely dining partner discreetly. Despite her ravenous hunger, she takes a polite bite of the noodles and lightly grilled chicken bites and chews them slowly, an expression of the deepest bliss spreading across her face.

A few moments after swallowing, he watches her attempt to school herself back into a poker face, amused. When Sakura is satisfied with her efforts, she clears her throat lightly. "You may open your eyes," she decrees, and Itachi does so, fixing her with his dark gaze.

"How did you find them?" he asks inscrutably.

"…Passable," Sakura lies.

Itachi arches an eyebrow, knowing better. "Better than the ones you had previously?"

Sakura gulps nervously. "I would say they're about even – argh!" she shrieks, jumping back, only to find that she has nowhere to go. "Your foot touched mine!"

Itachi smirks, rather enjoying himself. "We have a limited degree of foot space, obviously," he deadpans. "Let's be mature about this, shall we?"

Her face burning, Sakura downs the rest of her martini in one go, before turning back to her food. She stabs a serving of noodles viciously. "So," she begins, looking back at up at him; he gazes at her with the utmost attentiveness. "How are your friends?"

Their conversation follows a predictable path after this; Itachi attempts to convince Sakura that they are most certainly _not_ his friends, Sakura mocks him cruelly, and then they engage in idle and surprisingly civil and enjoyable conversation. This is even more of a Big Deal than it had been previously, because this time, they are engaging in idle and surprisingly civil and enjoyable conversation over a fancy dinner at an equally fancy restaurant. Which, technically, would make this an official date.

When Itachi realizes this, he discreetly chokes on his specially ordered Vitamin Water.

When Sakura realizes this, she turns several different shade of red, just barely restrains herself from overturning a bottle of horseradish sauce on Itachi's head, but settles with kicking him in the shin, due to a random and inexplicable physical spasm.

A pained expression flits over Itachi's well-bred features for about half a second. "May I ask what that was for?" he drawls.

"Random and inexplicable physical spasm," Sakura replies automatically. Throwing caution to the winds, she leans in a little, unable to stop herself from fidgeting. "Um…Itachi?"

He eyes her curiously; she had seemed rather comfortable prior to this. "Yes?"

Sakura fidgets some more, unable to believe that she is even in this situation in the first place. Honestly, out of all the kunoichi in Konoha, she has the _worst_ luck. Maybe she shouldn't bring this up right now, but honestly, somebody can't expect to be conned into a date with an Akatsuki member and act in a sane and rational manner afterward. "…Doyoulikeme?"

Itachi blinks. "…Pardon?"

Sakura takes a deep, steadying breath, forcing the words to come out coherently; there's no going back now. "Do you – like me, or something?"

Itachi cannot stop himself from recoiling slightly; he had hardly expected _that._ She was not supposed to know – damn it, did his naturally inscrutable and mysterious personality carry _no_ weight with her? "I would appreciate a little more clarification in regards to your meaning," he deadpans, trying his best to hold on to his usual composure.

Sakura shifts impatiently and crushes a complimentary fortune cookie to dust in her right hand. "Do you _like_ me?"

For once, Itachi utilizes the breathing exercises that Kisame is always going on about, as he tries to figure out what on earth the slight fluctuation in intonation and enunciation on the word _like_ is supposed to mean. "…What is the slight fluctuation in intonation and enunciation on the word _like_ intended to signify?"

For a few moments, Itachi thinks that he may have inadvertently given the pink-haired kunoichi some sort of silent heart attack. After some very deep breathing, though, she manages to recover herself. To his surprise, she doesn't screech at him, instead, lowering her voice to a softly dangerous tone. "Itachi. Do you want to go out with me?"

Itachi blinks again. "Are you—"

"Don't look like that, because I am _not_ asking you out!" Sakura screeches, before she reaches out, grabs him by the shirt, and pulls him alarmingly close to her, empty plates be damned, and searches desperately for terms that would make sense to somebody of his socially retarded nature. "Do you have feelings for me that are more than platonic?"

He says nothing, but Sakura notices the color rise against his pale cheekbones – Itachi. _The_ Uchiha Itachi. Blushing. She would laugh hysterically if it were not for the fact that, in one fell swoop, her life had just got three million times more complicated.

"I hate to interrupt your moment," Shishkikura Hokisai, owner of the Rusty Hangnail, says apologetically, and Sakura hastily lets go of Itachi; the two of them settle back into their respective seats, looking rather abashed. "But it looks like you two are ready for dessert!"

"Mango ice cream," Sakura replies immediately.

"Vanilla," Itachi manages.

The owner bows. "I will be back with them in a moment!"

He departs hastily, leaving a highly awkward silence in his wake.

"Um," Sakura mumbles, pushing a few stray noodles around on her plate and trying determinedly not to look at the man across from her. "As far as psychopathic mass-murdering S-ranked criminals go, I can say with all fairness, that you're the nicest one I know. But _dating_ – don't you think that would be kinda irrational?"

When she sneaks a look up, she finds Itachi looking at her unblinkingly. "Why?"

The question throws her enough to make her meet his gaze eye-to-eye. "Because," Sakura says, gesturing into the air. "You're the most notorious criminal to come out of our village, second only to Orochimaru. Your organization has sworn to bring the world to its knees before them, and my village has sworn to stop you at any cost. Hell, you guys want to extract the Kyuubi from my best friend, even though it would kill him." She hesitates. "It's primarily a conflict of interest. To say the least. Like I said – irrational."

It takes a moment for Itachi to counter this; he leans against the back of the booth, considering her. "You have naturally pink hair and can create a major earthquake by punching the ground," he observes mildly. "I became an ANBU Captain at eleven years of age. Your shishou, the Godaime Hokage, was once renowned for facing an entire army, unarmed – she plucked a tree out of the ground and literally swept said army off the face of a cliff. Kisame is a human and shark hybrid. Your friends Hyuuga Neji and Nara Shikamaru, respectively, have three-hundred-and-sixty degree vision and can make enemy-nin strangle themselves by manipulation of their shadows. Leader-sama has split himself into five bodies." He pauses for a moment, taking a small sip of his Vitamin Water. "Need I continue?"

Sakura watches him, honestly curious. "Where are you going with this?"

"In case it's escaped your notice, we live in a completely irrational world, Sakura," Itachi points out dryly. He indicates the table between them. "This would hardly be the most shocking and sensational thing to happen within it."

Sakura is dismayed to feel a blush creeping over her features, and she nearly jumps with gratitude when Shishkikura appears, smiling in his overly cheerful fashion, and distributing two large bowls of ice cream in front of them. "Mango and vanilla for two!"

Itachi inclines his head at the restaurant owner. "Thank you."

This time, the silence left behind is only slightly less awkward, as Itachi and Sakura turn their attention to their respective dishes of ice cream.

Itachi is completely immersed in carving the kanji for "death" into his vanilla ice cream with the tip of his spoon, so that when Sakura clears her throat softly, he looks up at her, somewhat startled.

She slides her bowl of mango ice cream toward him. "Here," the kunoichi offers. "Try some."

Itachi looks her over, weighting the possibility of her managing to discreetly slip some compact form of poison onto the innocuous dessert.

As if reading his thoughts, one of Sakura's eyebrows quirk up, and she actually coughs to hide the bubble of laughter in her throat. "Don't worry. I didn't poison it or anything."

Wordlessly, he slides his bowl of vanilla ice cream over to her.

Each of them keeping their gaze trained on each other, Itachi and Sakura take hesitant bites of the other's ice cream.

"Mm, it's good," Sakura manages, around her mouthful of the sweet, chilly dessert.

Itachi nods as he grudgingly acknowledges the merit of another ice cream flavor besides his favorite. "Indeed."

This time, their plates meet in the middle, and they share the rest of the two scoops between themselves.

-

After they are done with dinner, Sakura tries to assure Itachi that she doesn't really need him to escort her home. He gives her a look that implies that she should know better. "Either we go together," he informs her, in a tone of complete seriousness, "or I pretend to return to Headquarters and then follow you at a distance."

Sakura can't help but laugh as she throws her small mission pack of survival supplies at him. "You are _such_ a creepy weirdo."

Itachi raises an eyebrow at her. "After all, it is what I do best," he deadpans.

-

And that is how Itachi makes his second trip to Konoha within two days; although traveling with Sakura is infinitely preferable to traveling with Deidara and Tobi, which makes the entire endeavor completely worth it.

However, (thankfully) with Deidara and Tobi, there had been no awkward moments while standing outside of apartment doors.

"So," Sakura says at last, fiddling with her keys as she looks up at him. "Here we are. Again."

"Yes," Itachi acknowledges, his hand unconsciously drifting up to rub the previously bruised section of his jaw.

Sakura winces, and, without quite thinking, she reaches up to touch the jaw that she had punched. "I would say I'm sorry. Except that I'm not."

Itachi purposely leans his head slightly into her touch, his eyes never leaving hers. "Your honesty is admirable."

Sakura blushes again, pulling her hand back as if his skin is in danger of burning hers. "Yes! Well, I try. Or…something."

Itachi watches her, hiding the amusement from his gaze. "Hn."

Sakura paces in a small circle, no longer bothering to hide her frustration. "Oh, Buddha _damn_ it! Look, you," – she stops in front of him abruptly, poking him in the clavicle – "_Itachi._ This was not a date, okay?"

"Definitely not," Itachi fairly purrs in acknowledgement, as he advances toward her.

Sakura backs away, feeling vaguely alarmed. "You're looking at me funny. Stop it."

Her back collides with the door, and she squeaks.

Itachi steps forward, his hands gently curling around her elbows, and before Sakura can do so much as blink, his lips press against her cheek, and she freezes.

Itachi draws back, obviously satisfied with himself.

"You better not punch me now, damn it," Sakura manages, feeling somewhat dazed.

Itachi smirks at her. "I was not intending on it, Sakura. Good night."

And just like that, he is gone, leaving her standing on her doorstep, with two fingers pressed to the spot he had kissed her.

-

Yamanaka Ino is curled up on her sofa, watching the latest episode of _ANBU Romance_ with wide eyes, when her phone rings. She shrieks with surprise, mentally berates herself for being so jumpy, reaches for said phone, notes the Caller ID, and, this time, shrieks with anticipation.

"Sakura!" she fairly yells into the line. "You're cutting into _ANBU Romance_ time! Hang up unless you've got something really good!"

"Oh, Ino," her best friend says, in an uncharacteristically shaky voice. "Believe me, it's _good._"

-

When Itachi knocks on his bedroom door, Kisame opens it a crack and sticks his face out. "You're cutting into _ANBU Romance _time," the shark-man observes. "I'm not even letting you in unless you've got something really good."

Itachi smirks. "Trust me, Kisame – it's _good._"

* * *

To be continued. :O

Feedback very much appreciated! :)


	10. An International Affair

_Again, thank you so much to everybody who was kind enough to review. :) Oh, and, because I don't know if I mentioned it earlier – during the point in the AU timeline this is set during, Konoha is at war with Sound. _

_-_

"Say that one more time," Leader-sama enunciates, in a low, dangerous tone.

Deidara recoils from his glare, and even the normally fearless Hidan wilts a little. "…The mission went great, un. We got there without incident, performed the requisite assassinations, and on the way back – well, un, we may have accidentally started a little war with Sound."

"But just a little one," Hidan contributes helpfully.

Konan, Kisame, Itachi, Tobi, and Pein all stare at them, quite lost for words.

Pein takes several deep, calming breaths, closing his eyes for a moment; when he opens them, they glow with the purple light of the Rinnegan.

Even though the menacing doujutsu is only directed at the two most recalcitrant Akatsuki members, Kisame shudders inexplicably, Tobi fights the urge to cower under the table, Itachi's left eye twitches, and Konan actually crumples up her paper flower out of sheer nerves. Deidara and Hidan fare worse – the blonde missing-nin actually jumps in his seat and shrieks, and Hidan immediately performs a speedy and thorough recital of all the prayers he knows.

Pein leans forward, his fingers gripping the edges of the table hard. "Why don't you two tell me how you _accidentally _started a _little_ war?"

Deidara winces, twiddling his thumbs. "So, un. We were on our way back, when we were jumped by a bunch of those drab, weird-ass looking Sound shinobi."

Konan narrows her eyes. "Why would Sound shinobi _jump_ you? They may be unsavory, but they are not stupid." She pauses for a moment. "Well, not _all_ that stupid," the kunoichi amends.

Pein leans back, frowning. "Describe them."

Deidara considers this for a moment. "Tall guy, dressed in purple, with silver hair – originally from the Mist, just like you, un," he says, nodding toward Kisame. "And you'll get a kick out of this; he carries around a sword, too, but not as giant and badass as yours."

Kisame scowls darkly. "Freakin' wannabe," he mutters under his breath.

"Annoying redheaded chick," Hidan chips in. "_Really_ annoying. And a fucking giant with orange hair."

"Is that it?" Pein presses, barely able to conceal his impatience.

"That's not all, un," Deidara swings his feet on the table, with the air of somebody just about to disclose highly important information. The hand on his mouth spits out a tiny clay bird, which flutters over to Itachi. "They – group of drab, weird-ass Sound shinobi, that is – kept talking about _your_ little brother or sister, I can never figure out which it is, un—"

"Brother," Kisame supplies.

Itachi stares at Deidara impassively, before reaching out and crushing the little clay bird into dust. "What about my brother?"

"He and some of his little buddies have formed a team that's tracking you throughout the land, so that he can, and I quote, _cut off your fucking head, mount it on a pike, drain your internal organs into a soup, and then feed the aforementioned soup and whatever else remains of your body to the Inuzuka dogs. _Whatever the hell _those_ are," Hidan replies dismissively.

There are a few moments of dumbfounded silence, and every single pair of eyes in the Akatsuki lair swivels to the recipient of such considerable ire.

Itachi smirks, completely unconcerned. "How very predictable. Next order of business?"

Pein massages his forehead, battling a rapidly-growing headache of epic proportions. "So they are searching for Itachi. Presumably, they approached you because you are known members of the same organization, correct?"

"Yeah, un," Deidara confirms. "Anyway, we tried to get them to go away, and I think Hidan killed the redheaded chick as a warning, but they were being irritatingly – persistent, un. They just kept following."

"Like retarded, ugly, and completely unlovable puppies," Hidan clarifies.

Tobi considers pointing out that there is no such thing as an unlovable puppy, but wisely decides to save it for later.

"—So anyway, we didn't want to come right back to Headquarters, un," Deidara points out, jerking his thumb over at Itachi. "It would be a pretty bad idea to lead them to Tachi-chan over here. We took a minor detour, ended up crossing the border into Sound…"

"…Got cornered on one of their pansy-ass military bases…" Hidan continues smoothly—

—And Deidara clasps his hands in his most angelic manner, ready for the artistic finish. "And blew up said pansy-ass military base and everything and everybody in it, un!"

Kisame groans and discreetly bashes his head against the edge of the table, and Itachi sighs. Konan wordlessly folds a paper fan, just so she can hide her face behind it in shame.

"Why," Pein deadpans, "can I not send two members of my most notorious criminal organization out for a _simple_ assassination, and not have them return without causing an international incident?"

Hidan and Deidara both try their most innocent smiles – which come out as pained grimaces. "Because we're special, un?"

After a moment of deep thought, the Leader stands, his expression inscrutable. "…Get out."

Hidan pales. "The fuck – you're not kicking us out, are you?" he asks incredulously.

Pein shakes his head, looking regretful. "I would love to, but it would be far too troublesome to replace two members at once."

"Go to the basement," Konan interjects, "and stay there for a while."

Hidan freezes, obviously pained. "But there's going to be a fucking _war_!"

Deidara rocks back and forth, disturbed. "And I'm really good at blowing their shit up, un!"

"Go, or I'll have Itachi cut out your spleens and use them for lampshades," The Leader decrees mildly.

Obligingly, Itachi unearths a kunai from an inner pocket of his cloak and begins twirling it through his fingers.

"Fucker," Hidan mutters, as they slink out of the lair resentfully. "We _helped_ you."

Deidara attempts to mimic Sakura's most appealing pout on his way out. It doesn't work out all that well.

After they are gone, Konan sighs. "What are we going to do?"

Pein closes his eyes again, in thought. "Do we have the resources to undergo a full-fledged war with Sound and win?"

"Not at the moment," Kisame answers, before nodding toward Itachi. "Latest report from Zetsu is that his brother has Orochimaru sealed – inside his head. Or something. And Sasuke's going around freeing all of his prisoners and starting a Let's-Kill-Itachi club. What a jackass. Anyway, it could be a worrying prospect, but we don't want to risk any of our members in fights against an unknown number of dangerous and genetically altered teenagers."

Tobi gives a heartfelt shudder at the very thought.

Itachi blinks once. "…Foolish little brother, associating with the wrong sorts of people."

Kisame considers pointing out that Itachi had been the one who joined a notorious terrorist organization of S-ranked criminals at the mere age of thirteen, but decides against it.

Pein leans his head on his hand, deep in thought. "Konoha and Suna," he says at last, "are at war with Sound. None of the other villages are."

Konan's eyes widen slightly in understanding. "You don't mean to say—"

"An alliance would be on strictly temporary terms," Pein muses aloud. "I am aware that we are enemies of the aforementioned villages, but they have sustained heavy casualties during the years of the war—"

"—And they are in no position to be picky about whom they ally themselves with," Kisame completes the thought, smiling in a decidedly shark-ish manner.

"If they are wise," Itachi adds quietly, and the crimson light of the Sharingan flickers on, seemingly of its own accord, "then they will even welcome the idea of having such formidable allies."

Konan smiles slightly, crafting a delicate green leaf, and blowing it over to Pein. "Mutually beneficial – an excellent idea, indeed."

Pein inclines his head minutely, catching the leaf, and inspecting it between his fingers. "I will draft a missive to the Godaime Hokage immediately."

Tobi claps his hands and cheers. "Yay, guys! Does this mean we're all going to be friends?"

Konan takes pity on the swirly-masked innocent and leans over to pat his hand. "In essence, yes."

Tobi's sole visible eye glows with anticipation, and he opens his mouth to speak, a positively _amazing_ idea brewing in his mind—

Pein lifts his hand wearily. "No sleepovers."

Tobi deflates, thoroughly dejected.

-

After Leader-sama dismisses them, claiming a need for peace and quiet in order to write his letter to the Hokage, Itachi and Kisame retreat to their room, quietly discussing the impact and implications of the events of that day.

"Isn't that insane?" Kisame flops down on his bed, automatically reaching for Samehada and his sharpening rock.

Itachi paces back and forth between the window and the wall, half expecting to see his foolish little brother popping up in the middle of the neighboring mint fields with his posse of genetically altered and equally foolish teenage allies. "What?"

The rock makes a sickening sound as Kisame scrapes it against the razor-sharp blade. "Well, on your date with Sakura two nights ago—"

"It was not a date, apparently," Itachi interrupts, in a monotone.

Kisame frowns. "Fine. On your – socializing-dinner-thing with Sakura, one of the reasons she said she couldn't go out with you was because of the whole we're-enemies-of-her-country status. And now, exactly two days later, it turns out that we're at war with Sound; the same country _her _people are at war with. Which, technically, makes the Akatsuki and Konoha unlikely allies."

Itachi begins idly twirling one of his long daggers. "How very curious."

Kisame raises an eyebrow at him wordlessly.

"Do not go there, Kisame – that is one of the only ways I communicate; therefore, it is natural to assume that I am able to convey a great deal more information with a simple eyebrow raise than you can," Itachi drawls, bored.

The shark-man chokes, indignant. "What – oh, fine, whatever. You can keep your stupid eyebrow raising, anyway. You know what I'm getting at."

Itachi raises an eyebrow, proving that he is, indeed, capable of conveying a great deal of information within a single twitch of a facial muscle. "As a matter of fact, I do not, actually, know what you are _getting at._"

In a rare moment of frustration, Kisame throws his pillow at Itachi; the Uchiha dodges it easily, before leaning against the wall. Kisame fidgets. "Are you sure that you didn't, uh – send a shadow clone over to Sasuke's little buddies and somehow send them in the direction of Hidan and Deidara, knowing that two volatile individuals like them couldn't resist a fight?"

A ghost of a smile flickers over Itachi's features. "Why, Kisame, would I ever do something like that?"

The shark-man drops his sharpening rock in shock. "Oh, my _Buddha_! You did! You freakin' started an international incident just to win over your girl!"

Itachi smirks, returning to his bed. "You said it, not me. However, I neither confirm or deny your theory."

Kisame leans back, regarding his partner with a look that is a complex mixture between awe and horror. "You're a sick and twisted and _determined_ man, Uchiha Itachi."

Even from his easily reclining position, Itachi's dagger hits the center of the bull's eye placed on the wall on his first attempt. "Tell me something I am not already aware of, Kisame."

-

_Konoha_

-

It is an innocent enough and completely unassuming afternoon in Konoha, until the black raven flies in through the Godaime Hokage's open office window. This is not a shockingly unusual occurrence in itself – she is completely accustomed to receiving letters from various other Kage around the world, not to mention potential clients.

Tsunade is reclining in her chair, relaxed; when she sees the bird halt at the windowsill, glancing around the unfamiliar office quizzically, she smiles a little and snaps her fingers. "Come here, little birdie."

The raven obliges, coming to rest on the arm of her chair, and she reaches toward the letter it holds in its beak, marveling at how well-trained the animal is. It is unfamiliar, though, without the small golden tag around the neck bearing the emblem of the Hidden Village it is from—

Then Tsunade notices the maroon cloud embossed on the raven's black collar, and promptly turns five shades paler.

-

Sakura is completely intent on guiding her chakra-covered hands over the wounds slashed over the unconscious Aburame Shino's back, when Konohamaru barrels into the medical inspection room at high speeds, gasping for breath.

If she hadn't been such a naturally stoic individual, Sakura might have screeched at this highly unexpected interruption; as it is, she has to restrain herself from throwing a scalpel at him in surprise. "Konohamaru, what – you're supposed to be at the Academy!"

The irrepressible Konohamaru spares a moment to give her a grin. "Gets out early on Fridays, Sakura-nee-san! Anyway, Hokage-sama sent me to get you – she says it's important."

Sakura looks at Shino dubiously, but the slash marks have completely healed over, and now all he needs is a little rest. "Stay here and watch him," she instructs the younger boy. "And if he wakes, pour him some water from the pitcher, please?"

Konohamaru salutes her and bows near flat to the floor as she hurries out, on the way to Tsunade-shisou's office.

The door is open; she finds Shikamaru and Neji there already, as head tactician and ANBU Captain, they would be the first to know what had happened, and they move aside for her to stand between them. A few moments later, Morino Ibiki and Ino, his apprentice in the art of Interrogations and Questioning, join them. After bowing to the Hokage, Ino gives Sakura a questioning look, and Sakura shrugs back.

She is just as lost as her best friend, until Sakura happens to notice the sheet of paper that Tsunade holds in her hands. Cream colored paper, with black lines that are spaced roughly an inch apart, and emblazoned with clusters of maroon clouds on each of the four corners.

Akatsuki memo paper.

At that particular moment, Sakura tries her best to avoid dropping dead of sheer surprise.

"Now that we're all here," Tsunade begins, glancing around at her top shinobi. "Well, all of you who were already in the Tower, anyway—" She hesitates, wondering how to word this. "…It turns out that Sound has officially declared war on the Akatsuki, and vice versa."

Ibiki and Shikamaru actually choke, and Ino's eyes widen to the size of small dinner plates as she swivels around to face her best friend. Sakura has the unfortunate impression that her features have just followed suit, even as she jerks her chin toward the Hokage's desk, reminding Ino of the need for discretion.

In contrast, Neji's pale eyes narrow. "This is completely unprecedented, Tsunade-sama. The Akatsuki's primary interest is hunting down the tailed beasts – they have never engaged in warfare with an entire country before."

Sakura clears her throat, willing her voice to remain under control. "Ah, Tsunade-shishou? What triggered this sudden declaration of war?"

The Hokage glances back down at Pein's letter and frowns. "Apparently two of their members were returning from an operation, and were confronted by Sound shinobi with killing intent. Somehow, the Akatsuki crossed into the borders of Sound, and during the subsequent conflict, one of them ended up blowing up their largest military base, and everything and everyone in it – with a massive clay explosive device."

_Deidara, _Sakura thinks, and Ibiki whistles, astonished. "The one we've been attempting to infiltrate and decimate for months? One of them took it out in a _day_?"

"Yes," Tsunade says absentmindedly. "Their Leader proposes a temporary alliance," – she pauses – "the idea of working with enemies of our village is an extreme and somewhat distasteful proposition, but…"

"Whatever works," Shikamaru replies succinctly. "They may be the scourges of evil, but they're good at what they do. And we can't afford to lose any more of our own people – or waste any more of our resources – on Sound."

He looks around at the others; Neji nods tightly, Ibiki and Ino echo their assent, and Sakura is next to follow, even though she feels rather weak at the knees.

"Very well," Tsunade says grimly. "I will consult the elders about it within the next fifteen minutes, but I'm sure that they will be wise enough to see it as you do. You all are dismissed for the day."

Neji and Shikamaru leave first, heads bowed in quiet, intent conversation, and Ino practically grabs Sakura's arm and drags her out of the office. "What the _hell_, forehead girl?" Ino hisses, as soon as they are a safe distance away.

"What?" Sakura asks indignantly. "This is as big as a surprise to me as it is to everyone else!"

They clear the double doors of Hokage Tower, stepping out into the afternoon sunshine, and Ino sighs mightily. "_Sakura. _Don't you think that it's just a tiny bit weird that during your little date—"

"Not a date!" Sakura interrupts, flailing agitatedly.

"—Fine, socializing-dinner-thingy with Itachi, you basically told him that the primary reason you wouldn't date him was the whole enemy-of-our-village thing, and now…" Ino trails off meaningfully.

Sakura blanches. "Oh, my _Buddha,_ Ino, be serious. It's just a freakish coincidence."

"_No,_ Sakura, happening to run into him at a fish market would be a freakish coincidence! This is something more!" The blonde kunoichi gestures dramatically, nearly smacking a passing child upside the head. "This is, like, divine interference!"

Sakura promptly grabs a spray bottle from a nearby street vendor, squirts it onto her best friend a few times, and sets it back down, ignoring Ino's shrieks of indignation. "This is _so_ not divine interference," she informs the other young woman haughtily. "I highly doubt the gods would sanction such an unholy affair – hell, he's like the poster boy for Evil!"

"Not just evil, but Evil?" Ino asks dryly.

"Yes," Sakura attempts to assure her. "Therefore, not divine intervention. Freakish coincidence."

Ino sighs deeply. "Whatever, forehead girl. Look at it this way – either it's divine intervention by that weird Hidan guy's crazy god, or you have a guy who wants you enough to start an international war in an attempt to win your heart."

Much to Sakura's horror, Ino's eyes actually fill up with tears. "Isn't that just the most _romantic_ thing?"

"Yes," Sakura acknowledges, after a few moments of deep thought. "When I was a mere girl of twelve years old, I always dreamed of the distant day in the future when dearest Sasuke-kun's scary, criminal older brother would kidnap me in order to heal his failing eyes, inexplicably develop some fascination with my innocent person, and then proceed to attempt to, uh – date me."

Ino nearly falls over upon being hit with the force of this deadpan. "You know, Sakura?" she says at last. "The world is split into two kinds of people. The kind who would start an international affair – one that has the possibility to end in disaster – for you, and the kind who…wouldn't. I'm one of the ones who would. Me, Naruto, Kakashi-sensei, Tsunade-sama, and probably even Sai. But now, it turns out that it isn't exactly a hypothetical situation; this guy, _Itachi,_ actually did."

Sakura blinks, confused, and Ino pounces on the opportunity; she hugs her best friend farewell. "Later, Sakura. Think about it, and call me tonight if anything comes up."

And just like that, Ino is gone, leaving Sakura standing outside of her apartment, alone with her thoughts.

-

Sakura has been pacing around her small living space for an hour straight, when she finally collapses on her sofa, and rubs her aching forehead, thoroughly exhausted, and even more confused than she had been at the beginning of her little pacing spell.

As a thoroughly inadequate form of venting, Sakura kicks the leg of her coffee table viciously, imagining Itachi's face as a substitute. Uchiha freakin' _Itachi._ The man directly responsible for making her life – and the world at large – so problematic and _troublesome,_ as Shikamaru would have put it.

_What would the Akatsuki do_?

The thought comes to Sakura suddenly, and she blinks. What the hell? She isn't _supposed_ to be thinking about what the Akatsuki would do upon faced with an individual they found problematic, because they're an organization of evil criminal freaks, and therefore, hardly people to emulate.

Besides, the only things they _could_ probably do would be to have Deidara blow something up, set Itachi and Kisame on the source of the problem like highly specialized and nasty attack dogs, or, in a really desperate, finesse-requiring situation, have Tobi do some of his stalkerish surveillance.

Sakura freezes.

In the next moment, Mr. Darcy, her beloved slug, is in her hands. He squelches a greeting, and Sakura picks him up and holds him to her eye level. "Mr. Darcy. I know this is a slightly strange request, but do you think that you could do some discreet surveillance for me?"

Mr. Darcy twitches one of his feelers in assent.

Sakura beams, squeezing him a little. "See, this is what I need you to do…"

-

_Akatsuki Headquarters_

-

Three kunai hit the center of the bulls-eye on the far side of the clearing at the exact same time, but Itachi sniffs, unsatisfied.

The sun is just beginning to slip underneath the horizon, and he activates the Sharingan and takes a step toward the targets, intending to retrieve them, when—

_Squelch._

Itachi spins around, another kunai in hand. His sharp eyes catalogue every minute feature of the forest and clearing – nothing out of the ordinary, and he senses no foreign chakras in the vicinity. Still, his gaze narrows even further, as he takes one step forward.

_Squelch._

Itachi's hand spasms of its own volition, and this time, the kunai in his grip embeds itself into the trunk of a nearby tree. Several rotting oranges fall from the leafy treetops, but nothing capable of creating that hideous sound.

_Squelch._

The Uchiha prodigy's left eye twitches erratically.

_Squelch._

Itachi snaps. "Genjutsu Kai!"

Silence.

Itachi allows himself the luxury of a condescending sneer – it is likely that his foolish little brother or some of his genetically altered friends may have placed several location-oriented genjutsu around the surrounding areas, and he had just happened to encounter one. He continues on his way to the target, when—

_Squelch._

Itachi shudders deeply; this is not a mere genjutsu, but psychological warfare of the most blatant, basest type…

When the realization hits him, his eyes narrow again. Careful not to make any excessively sudden moves, he reaches into the inner pocket of his cloak, and slowly withdraws one of Konan's chocolate chip cookies. It is a few days old, but still retains its distinctive scent, which is all he needs.

Itachi sits down, cross-legged, in the center of the clearing, holding the cookie in the palm of his hand…and waiting.

One minute passes. Then two. And then three.

Itachi hears a squelch of longing, so soft he can barely hear it, come from underneath a pile of leaves about five feet away. He smirks, and then reaches forward, placing the cookie in front of the pile of leaves in question.

Two more minutes pass, before Itachi has the satisfaction of seeing one feeler tentatively extricate itself from the leaves and twitch in the direction of the offered cookie. He takes a deep breath, and holds it.

Under the impression that the coast is clear, Mr. Darcy-or-Dorian-Gray the slug emerges from the pile of leaves, oozing in anticipation of his favorite treat. He inches forward, squelching slightly, his feelers straining toward the cookie—

And then, quite abruptly, he feels a familiar pair of icy cold hands curl around his squishy midsection and lift him up, until he meets an equally familiar crimson-and-black glare. "Dorian Gray," Itachi pronounces slowly, "we meet again."

Dorian Gray gives a thoroughly alarmed squelch.

-

Sakura is attacking her punching bag with rapid strikes powered by brute force alone, when she feels the familiar tug on her chakra. The kunoichi abandons her punching bag with a smirk, pulling her customary chakra-enhancing gloves back on. That hadn't taken too long at all.

Following her slug summons' trail isn't hard; she uses the simple jutsu Tsunade-shishou had taught her, and within a few moments, she is standing in the middle of a clearing that she knows to be outside of Akatsuki Headquarters – completely alone.

Sakura frowns slightly; _where's Mr. Darcy_?

Almost as soon as the thought itself completes within her mind, she finds herself pinned against the trunk of a tree, a hairsbreadth away from Uchiha Itachi himself.

He takes advantage of her obvious surprise to smirk, and to her indignation, he lifts _her_ slug up, as it oozes all over a chocolate chip cookie in obvious contentment. "Why, Sakura," Itachi deadpans. "If you wanted to see me so badly, you could have just written a letter."

Sakura's jaw drops, and her face burns with indignation. "What the—what did you do to Mr. Darcy? And I didn't want to see you!"

Itachi blinks, looking toward the slug he holds. "Mr. Darcy? What sort of name is Mr. Darcy? And I did not _do_ anything to Dorian Gray; he just proved himself susceptible to certain forms of persuasion."

"How dare you blackmail _my_ slug with a chocolate chip cookie!" Sakura screeches, losing her composure. "And what the hell is a Dorian Gray?"

The two of them glare at each other for a few minutes; sensing disquietude, and suffering from the impending fear that two S-ranked shinobi might play tug-of-war with him at any moment now, Dorian-Gray-Mr.-Darcy inches off to his pile of leaves, taking the cookie with him.

Sakura watches him go, and Itachi takes the moment to collect his usual poise. "Sakura," he says smoothly. "To what do I owe the honor of your visit?"

Sakura scoffs, and advances on him, poking him in the clavicle. "Don't get all sarcastic on me, Uchiha. Word on the street is that – that…"

Itachi raises an eyebrow elegantly. "What?"

"That you started this thing!" Sakura whispers, gesturing dramatically. "Don't you think it's just a teensy bit coincidental that on our date-thing, I told you we couldn't, you know, _go out_, because of our villages being enemies – and two days later, we're suddenly on the same side against Sound?"

Itachi merely smirks, looking off into the distance. "…Ah. You admit that it was a date."

Sakura comes remarkably close to uprooting the nearest tree and beating him over the head with it, but after a few moments of executing Kisame's breathing exercises, her strangled snarls finally quiet. "It doesn't _matter_ if it was a date or whatever. What matters is whether you knowingly started an international incident or not."

Itachi folds his arms, regarding the irate kunoichi impassively. "How is that an issue?"

Sakura's glare resurfaces, and she crosses her arms right back, regarding him wordlessly.

Surprisingly, Itachi is the first to give way, and he sighs, looking away from the setting sun. "Sakura. I will be the first to admit that do not give up easily, and I stop at nothing to get what I want."

The pink-haired kunoichi blinks at this bit of introspection. "…Is that an answer?" she asks uncertainly.

Itachi glances down at her. "It is whatever you want it to be."

As if by mutual agreement, they leave the shade of the clearing, stepping out into the familiar mint fields. The odor is as overwhelmingly clean and fresh as it had been previously, and Itachi cannot help but cough again; when he looks up, he finds a smile hovering at the edges of Sakura's mouth, as if she is remembering that particular night as well.

"You're an irrational individual, you know," Sakura sighs, as she sinks to her knees among the Stone Mint plants. "I'll make sure to add that to my book."

Itachi makes a small sound of disagreement in the back of his throat as he follows suit. "Quite the contrary; I am a highly controlled and rational individual, and I never perform any actions without a logical list of highly sound reasons behind them."

"Oh, really?" Sakura glances at him. "Would you care to explain yourself on this one incidence?"

One corner of his mouth lifts. "Doing so would go against all of my most deeply held principles."

Sakura cannot help but laugh, as she directs a look over to the concealed location of the Akatsuki Headquarters. "I bet if somebody told you a year ago that you would ever want to date somebody, you would have told them that _that_ went against all of your most deeply held principles."

Itachi frowns his displeasure at the accuracy of her statement. "…Very well. Sound is proving itself a nuisance to everything and everybody, as it always has. The war between Sound and the Leaf has been dragging on for years, at a complete deadlock. What it needed was the introduction of a new element, intended to shift the delicate balance from one side to the other." He pauses, regarding his companion. "As the new element in question tips the scales in _your_ favor, I am surprised that you are voicing your concern over this matter."

Sakura blushes a little. "Whatever. I'm just surprised you would do something so…selfless."

There is a flicker of amusement in his eyes. "I have not acknowledged that I had any role to play in this. We are discussing this in a purely hypothetical manner, of course. And _selfless _would never be a word used to describe me accurately, Sakura."

"Of course," Sakura rolls her eyes, and continues, without thinking her following statement through properly. "So if you _were_ the catalyzing factor of all these events, what would you have to gain?"

The Sharingan fades from his eyes, leaving them as black as night, as Itachi regards her in silence, and Sakura gulps minutely. _…Maybe that hadn't been the best thing to ask._

"I think you know very well what I would have to gain," Itachi comments softly, meeting her gaze.

Apprentice of the Godaime Hokage and legendary kunoichi in her own right nevertheless, Sakura drops her gaze to the mint leaves beneath her. "Maybe I do."

The silence between them is heavy and the night is almost sickeningly beautiful, and Itachi racks the remarkable entirety of his intellect, very well aware that this is what Kisame would call _the opportune moment_ to strike.

Itachi leans forward, still a little uncertain of what exactly he is going to do—

—Sakura mirrors his movement, almost instinctually—

—And then a giant clay bomb goes off, Deidara's slightly maniacal laughter echoes throughout the entire area, and there is the distant sound of Tobi giggling.

"Fucking _no, _bitches!" Hidan's chakra-amplified roar joins the echoes of Deidara's laughter. "Take that, you genetically altered teenage pansies! That's right, I went there! Expect no mercy and accept your fucking _doom_, bitches! That's going to teach _you_ to genjutsu our special lake!"

Itachi blinks.

Despite having never watched a single episode of _ANBU Romance_ in his entire life, and being a complete and utter romancephobe, on top of that, Itachi is familiar with the concept of _the moment._ Not excessively familiar at all, but familiar enough to know that there had been one. And it had just effectively been shattered, trampled on, chewed up, and spat out.

Sakura laughs nervously and pats him on the arm, almost unable to believe the magnitude of what had almost happened – while recovering her senses and slowly and steadily inching away from him. "Um. Itachi. I'll, uh, talk to you later, okay?"

"Sakura—" Itachi's grip closes around her wrist, but he is a fraction of a second too late, and he catches nothing but a single cherry blossom.

Itachi stares after her for a few moments, taking care to keep his features as expressionless as always, even in solitude.

A small, forlorn squelch sounds at his feet, and the Uchiha prodigy looks down to find Dorian Gray. Stifling a sigh, he leans down and picks up the slug. "…Kisame would likely tell me that this is the practical application of the theory of karma," he says, at length.

Dorian Gray squelches in sympathy, and rubs one of his feelers against Itachi's knuckles.

-

"There you are, Itachi," Kisame comments, as soon as he sees his partner enter Headquarters, cradling Sakura's slug. "We were worried; some of Sasuke's genetically altered little friends were skulking around our eastern territories, putting genjutsu around the lake—"

"—And then I blew them up, un!" Deidara chirps, evidently having been released from his imprisonment in the basement. "It was fucking _awesome_, un!"

"And then I cussed the pansy-ass little bastards out," Hidan completes proudly, before he takes note of the Uchiha's expression. "What are you looking like that for, little red-eye?"

Itachi sets Dorian Gray down on the kitchen table silently, before advancing on them, and Hidan and Deidara cringe back against the refrigerator, as the Sharingan fires into life. "What the hell, un, are you even aware of how creepy it is when you do the little conjunctivitis-eye-thingy—"

"Oh, I am very aware indeed," Itachi grits out menacingly.

-

Pein and Konan are in the main lair, reading over the Godaime Hokage's return correspondence, when the relative peace is interrupted by several screeches of agony.

"Again?" Pein asks, without batting an eyelid. "Itachi has been rather moody since this latent hormonal awakening, don't you think?"

Konan considers this. "I suppose; bless his little heart. It would be wise for me to check in, anyway."

The blue-haired kunoichi glides over to the kitchen – Hidan and Deidara are lying on the floor, peacefully unconscious, Kisame is drinking Vitamin Water out of the bottle and watching, amused, and Itachi hurriedly returns the steak knife he had been attempting to pocket into the drawer.

"What did they do this time, 'Tachi-chan?" Konan inquires, pulling Hidan and Deidara upright and arranging them into chairs.

Itachi sighs deeply, before picking up the slug and proceeding upstairs. "I cannot bring myself to speak about it."

Once he is safely out of sight, Konan turns to Kisame and raises an eyebrow. "One bottle of Vitamin Water says that Tachi-chan just got his first kiss interrupted – or, judging from the damage," – she smoothes a lock of hair away from Deidara's eyes – "preempted."

Kisame snorts, setting aside his Vitamin Water. "No thanks – I'm not stupid enough to take _that_ one."

"I heard that," Itachi's voice echoes down from the top of the staircase—

—And Konan and Kisame both pale drastically. "Ah, _ANBU_ _Romance_?" Kisame suggests, fleeing to the main lair.

"Of course," Konan agrees wholeheartedly, before hastily following suit.

* * *

Haha, poor Itachi and Sakura.

They might get their chance in the next chapter though. Maybe. Possibly. Perhaps. Just sayin'. :D

Feedback very much appreciated!


	11. I'm Yours

_Many thanks to everybody who was kind enough to review. :) Oh, and the official soundtrack to this chapter – I'm Yours, by Jason Mraz. The lyrics used later on are from the aforementioned single, and are not my own. _

-

Deidara leans his head against his hand, considering his comrades. "You guys have been downright _boring_ lately, un. If I have to pretend to seduce that weird Neji guy just to get a laugh out of you, I'm going to be really damn pissed, un."

The Leader sighs in a rather martyred fashion. "Remember – just because Konoha's ANBU operatives have been trying to hunt down and kill all of us for years doesn't mean that we should take the opportunity to torment them now."

"Too fucking late," Hidan says pragmatically. "I already stole a whole pack of that weird Genma guy's oral fixating tools – uh, senbon, and Itachi's been doing his little red-eye techniques whenever one-half-red-eye-guy Kakashi turns his back, and the stupid mask-face _still_ can't figure out why he's having nightmares."

Kisame sniggers. "_Seriously_?"

A few moments pass without a reply, and, wordlessly, Kisame, Pein, and Deidara all lean around and crane their necks. Surely enough, Itachi is _still_ sitting silently in his dark and secluded corner of the main lair, while practically radiating a scary and murderous aura.

The Leader glances from Itachi – who rotates his swively chair slightly, so that his back is completely to the rest of the company, and continues his mysterious scribbling – to Kisame, and raises an eyebrow inquiringly.

Kisame quickly grabs a pad of Akatsuki memo paper, and Deidara passes him a Magic Marker, before he finishes a small billboard sign. _Sakura, I think,_ it reads.

Following his lead, Pein takes last week's business section and another Magic Marker from Deidara. _Explain._

Kisame hastily flips to another page, shooting a cautious look at the apparently unaware Itachi. _Even though we're on the same side as Konoha, I guess it's taking her some time to come to terms with the fact that she and one of the world's most notorious criminals seem to have amazing chemistry._

Pein drops the business section, giving a small nod of understanding.

Apparently unaware of the tension in the room, Deidara prances over to Itachi and flings an arm around the Konoha missing-nin's shoulders. "What up, G-Money, un?"

Itachi _had_ been considering breaking Deidara's arm from the very moment he sensed the obnoxious artist's impending arrival, but then utter confusion preempts the action, and he can do nothing but blink. "…Please unhand me, or I will have no choice but to fracture various limbs of yours for this unwelcome physical contact."

Deidara hastily removes the arm in question, and retreats several steps, just in case. Kisame snorts disbelievingly. "G-Money? Did you just call Itachi _G-Money_?"

Deidara flings his hands up defensively. "It was just an icebreaker, okay, un? Besides, it's what Raidou calls Genma."

"I said you should attempt civility toward them," Pein drawls, "not imitate their childish ways."

Kisame strolls over to his partner, grinning in a way that he hopes is subtle. "Eh, Itachi – how are you?"

Much to his surprise, Itachi attempts to conceal whatever he had been working on so intently, by quickly stripping off his Akatsuki cloak and flinging it over the entire table. "Passable."

Kisame's natural curiosity is aroused; he peers over Itachi's shoulder, and even Deidara slinks back to them, reaching for the discarded cloak. "What's that, un?"

Itachi's eyes narrow, and his arm shoots out, locking Deidara's wrist in a crushing grip. "_Nothing_."

But he is too late, and Kisame slips under Itachi's guard to confiscate the work. He stares at it, puzzled, and rotates it one hundred and eighty degrees. "This feels like – what, is this a canvas or something?"

Itachi promptly throws Deidara aside, and the blonde missing-nin flies across the room and almost crashes into the Tiffany lamp. Pein winces and quickly removes himself to the basement and the much saner company of Konan, even as Itachi advances on Kisame, engaging the Sharingan. "Return it immediately."

Instinctually, Kisame flings up the canvas in order to prevent his gaze from meeting the menacing doujutsu, and, as a result, the cloak slowly slides off the canvas and pools on the floor.

Three things happen at once:

Itachi emits a horrified squeak, and then looks completely repulsed at his vocal cords for performing such a traitorous sound in the first place.

Kisame blinks; holding the canvas at arm's length away from him. "Oh, my Buddha," he breathes, at last. "I've never seen anything so beautiful in my life."

Deidara drags himself to his feet, nursing his swollen and purple wrist irritably. "What the fuck? Uchiha _paints_? And why is that on one of _my_ canvases?"

Itachi lunges at Kisame, attempting to strangle him, but the shark-man is, after all, roughly two feet taller than him; he lifts the canvas out of the Uchiha prodigy's reach easily. "Itachi! I never knew you could even _do_ things like this!"

By this time, Deidara has limped over to Kisame. "Hey, let me see, un."

At this point, Itachi decides that killing his partner will be far too troublesome to do right now; perhaps he could exact his retribution on Kisame slowly and steadily, over a period of several months to years. For now, though, he resorts to leaning against the nearby armchair in a rather broody fashion, as the remaining two Akatsuki members scrutinize his work.

Kisame is reduced to a state of near speechlessness as he surveys the magnificent oil painting – two darkened silhouettes, standing in a field of the purest mint green, while then sun rises above the horizon in an explosion of color. The leaves of the trees bordering the field are golden and scarlet and dark, rich plum; all the colors of a beautiful autumn. "…Itachi," he croaks, nearly mortified. "It's _pretty. _It's beautiful and gorgeous. You – I didn't think you were even capable of creating anything that could be considered beautiful in any way."

Itachi raises an eyebrow elegantly. "Why, thank you, Kisame. On both counts."

Deidara has been considering the painting skeptically, tilting his head back and forth. "What the hell, un?" he yelps at last. "This isn't even original!"

Kisame gapes. "What?"

Deidara squints at it for another moment, racking through his remarkable mental encyclopedia of artistic works. "This is an exact copy of _Lovers in Japan_, un!" he fairly squawks, thrusting it back into Itachi's arms and looking a great deal like he wants to vomit. "That's so fucking ridiculous! Where's the originality! The emotion? The passion? Where's your own heart and soul, un?"

This last inquiry is screamed at the top of Deidara's lungs, and Kisame inches away as subtly as possible. Itachi, for once, is less discreet, and stabs the corner of the canvas into Deidara's ribs. "It is a well known fact that I have no heart or soul," Itachi says emotionlessly.

Deidara doubles over in pain, swatting hard in his direction. "Whatever, un!"

Kisame hovers between them, before taking the canvas away from Itachi and cradling it in a protective fashion. "Wait, Itachi – do you have any original work?"

Itachi regards him for a long moment, before picking up his discarded cloak and rummaging within the inner pockets. Finally, he pulls out a rolled up piece of paper, which has been secured with a rubber band, and hands it to his partner.

Kisame unrolls it slowly, trying to ignore his feelings of trepidation. As he regards the one and only Uchiha Itachi Original, he takes care to keep his shark-like features as impassive as possible. "That's, uh – really…really…raw and emotional."

Itachi retrieves his original work, rolling it up tightly and returning it to his immediate person. "Thank you."

Deidara cranes his neck suspiciously. "What's the medium?"

"…Crayon."

"Subjects, un?"

Itachi makes no move to reply; Kisame considers it, but then realizes that if he comes even close to describing the Crayola representation of Itachi and Sakura, killing Sound shinobi in the midst of a field of black roses – well, then, he would run a high risk of finding poison in his Vitamin Water the next morning. And that would definitely not be cool.

Deciding to derail this dangerous point of discourse, Kisame clears his throat purposefully. "So," he says, holding out Itachi's flawless copy of _Lovers In Japan_, "is this for Sakura's birthday?"

Judging from the slight widening of his eyes, apparently, it had _not_ been for Sakura's birthday. "What is this birthday that you speak of?" Itachi asks guardedly.

Deidara snorts. "It's March the twenty-first, un. Your girl's birthday is in exactly a week. You didn't know?"

Judging from the blank – well, blanker than usual – expression on Itachi's face, Deidara and Kisame are forced to acknowledge that he, in fact, did _not _know.

"You're hopeless, un," Deidara pronounces, flinging his hands up. "_Hopeless._"

Itachi's Sharingan promptly evolves to Mangekyou, and Kisame pats him on the shoulder reassuringly. "Breathing exercises?"

Itachi dutifully inhales and exhales with an aura of forced calm.

"Intonations?"

"…Om."

"Anyway, un," Deidara rolls his eyes, having completely memorized the requisite speech, "this is your chance to make a good impression on Sakura. Except this has to be a super special impression."

Itachi sniffs disdainfully. "_Besides_ making noodles, harvesting one hundred specimens of glorified vegetation, getting punched in the jaw and not doing anything about it, writing haiku, authoring a full-length Shakespearan novel, taking her out to dinner at an extremely high-class restaurant, _and_ perhaps starting an international affair to win her approval?"

Deidara and Kisame blink in unison.

"Eh, Itachi," Kisame starts sheepishly, "that's great and all, but when you have a track record like yours – you need all the good impressions you can get."

"You off your entire clan _one_ time, un," Deidara lectures, "and the stigma is with you for life."

"Yes, I am aware," Itachi replies, bored. "How exactly do you propose that I _make a super special impression,_ so to speak?"

"Hmm," Kisame muses aloud, before reclaiming the magnificently painted canvas. "First off, we're getting this to Konoha."

Itachi's brow furrows slightly. "Is that it?"

Deidara actually giggles at his contemporary's degree of social retardation. "Of course not, un. That's just part one."

This entire conversation is sounding far too familiar for his tastes, and Itachi frowns. "Part one?"

"Obviously," Kisame replies succinctly. "Deidara; as Hidan and Tobi are out wreaking havoc on Sound with the Konoha people, you and I have to help Itachi with this particular task."

"I require no _help_—"

Deidara recoils. "I don't want to help the little red-eye, un!"

"Again, I am most certainly not _little,_ and let me reiterate the point that I do not need help from the likes of _you_," Itachi pronounces disdainfully, the tomoe of the Sharingan practically burning a hole through Deidara's face.

The artist sneers indignantly, his pride wounded. "Well, too goddamn bad! You're getting my help anyway, whether you like it or not, un!"

Kisame tries his best not to laugh at how very predictable they are. "Well, fine. Deidara, you can start by making sure this painting gets to Sakura safe and sound."

The exact replica of the famous painting is thrust into Deidara's arms, and he blinks. "But that's like a three-hour journey, un. What are _you_ two going to be doing?

"Oh, we'll be brainstorming," Kisame says offhandedly. "We've got about a week to come up with the best birthday presents ever, and the clock is ticking."

Deidara smirks at the pained expression on Itachi's face. "Fine, un. Later."

He then strolls out of the side door, humming merrily to himself, while Itachi glares after him, feeling vaguely envious. "Kisame, must we?"

"Yes," is the firm reply, as he is dragged toward the main lair again.

Itachi scowls, his typically bad mood having now transitioned into a state of positive ornery, as he watches his partner rummage through the various cabinets. "What are you doing?"

Kisame opens and shuts another drawer, sweeping the various contents aside. "Konan hides her shopping catalogs in here – she hasn't been able to leave them out in the open since Tobi joined. Apparently Tobi found one, once, and drained nearly six months' worth of funding by ordering a priceless Vera Wang wedding dress."

"…Ah." Much to his dismay, an image of Tobi clad in an elaborate wedding dress springs to his mind, and Itachi nearly shivers with revulsion.

"Oh, here we go." Kisame tosses a large stack of outdated issues of _National Geographic_ out onto the floor, before unearthing an even larger stack of shopping catalogs.

Itachi recoils. "You do not expect me to go through those, do you?"

Kisame staggers under the sheer weight of all the catalogs, before managing to throw them all out over the coffee table, until the aged wood is completely covered by names of various high-end fashion enterprises. "Of course I do. Don't worry, though, I'll help."

"…I refuse. My dignity does not allow it."

Kisame snorts. "It's either this or going shopping. Actual shopping. At a store."

A long and tense silence ensues, as Itachi and Kisame glare at each other. This awkward pause is interrupted in the most unlikely fashion, when they hear the door slam, and then the cascade of virulent profanity that usually accompanies Hidan's arrival.

Itachi and Kisame relax fractionally.

Then they hear a horrifyingly familiar giggle echo through the lower level of Headquarters; the kind of shamelessly gleeful and happy sound that only Tobi is capable of producing. "Itachi-san, Kisame-san!" the orange-masked Akatsuki member fairly squeals. "We're home!"

Itachi pales slightly, while Kisame blanches from his normal healthy shade of turquoise to a washed-out blue. "It's too late," he mutters, his gills actually flaring. "There's nothing we can do."

Itachi quickly slides out a kunai.

"We can't kill him!" Kisame argues, but it is, indeed, too late – Tobi barrels into the room from the kitchen, in search of his two 'bestest friends', fully intending to launch himself on top of them in one of his customarily exuberant welcoming hugs.

However, through a sick twist of fate, Tobi's gaze happens to fall on the littered coffee table first. He stops dead, his sole visible eye widening at an alarming rate.

"Buddha _damn_ it," Kisame mutters under his breath.

"You should have just let me kill him," Itachi replies superciliously.

They both watch, wincing, as Tobi practically throws himself bodily on the table. "Vera Wang!" he gasps ecstatically, picking up a nearby catalog and almost inhaling it in his enthusiasm. "Christian Dior!" He sets the Vera Wang issue aside, and practically cradles each designer's shopping catalogues in bliss. "Versace! Coach! Tobi is the happiest boy in the world!"

"Good-bye, funding," Kisame sighs.

Itachi's thoughts are drifting in a different direction, as he stares at the outrageous display in front of him. "Is he _crying_?"

"Tears of joy, Itachi-san," Tobi sniffles, flipping through a Prada catalogue. "Tears of joy."

"Well," Kisame replies diplomatically, as the two of them slink out of the lair, leaving Tobi to his shopping, "I guess this means we have to find other options."

"…And how do we go about that?" Itachi deadpans.

Kisame gives him a _shouldn't-it-be-obvious_ look. "Shouldn't it be obvious?"

Itachi glowers. "No, Kisame. It is most definitely not obvious."

"We consult Hidan, of course," Kisame heads down the staircase, toward Hidan's lair, before turning back to look for his partner. "You coming?"

"No. I am fairly certain you have taken leave of your senses."

Kisame sighs deeply. "If you don't come, Hidan's going to end up ordering Sakura a giant, plush, velvety-soft teddy bear that is holding a big red heart emblazoned with the words _My Love_."

Itachi's left eye twitches at the very thought. "…On second thought, I am coming."

-

_Konoha_

-

"Oh, my Buddha," Ino gasps dramatically, upon entering Sakura's apartment. "It's _another_ one!"

Sakura is finishing locking up, and she takes a moment to turn around, but that is enough time for Ino to prance over to the coffee table, pick up the newest addition to her best friend's collection of interior décor, and brandish it at her. "This one is even prettier than the others!"

Sakura plucks it from her grasp lightly, in order to admire it better. "No matter what else you can say about the guy," she acknowledges grudgingly, "he's a hell of a painter."

Ino flings herself onto the couch, watching Sakura hang it on the wall. "So, let's see," she drawls, while ticking each count off on her fingers. "By your own admission, Uchiha Itachi: painter, war-starter, punch-taker, novel-writer, haiku-master, noodle-maker, and…awesome date-taker?"

Sakura rolls her eyes, having heard numerous variations of this speech at least a hundred times by now. "Your point?"

Ino promptly throws one of the cushions at her. "The point is, _why_ aren't you going out with him already?"

"Ino," Sakura says incredulously. "You know that you're a terrible influence, right?"

The blonde kunoichi actually squeaks in her indignation. "Terrible influence? Me?"

"You're trying to convince me to date an _S-class criminal_! It doesn't get any worse than that!"

"Hey!" Ino attempts, in her own defense. "It's not drugs or alcohol. Besides, you like him, anyway."

Sakura begins pouring both of them glasses of icy water – not stupid Vitamin Water, just plain, natural, mineral water with exactly three ice cubes distributed in the middle – in order to escape her friend's excessively scrutinizing gaze. "Don't be crazy. I so do _not_ like Uchiha freakin' Itachi."

Ino raises an eyebrow wordlessly.

"Okay, fine," Sakura relents, as she passes her the glass of water. "Fate threw us together in some sort of sick joke, but I only put up with him for the fancy paintings, and, still, I'm just biding my time until I lure him into a false sense of security. Then, I fully intend to turn him in to Tsunade-shishou so that she can execute him, and subsequently extract his brain and examine it in the pursuit of science. And he won't even see it coming."

Without further ado, Ino fishes out one of the ice cubes from her glass and throws it at her. "Don't even give me that, forehead girl! You're the one who almost kissed him on—"

Sakura screeches as the ice cube makes contact squarely with her throat, albeit for an entirely different reason. "Don't say that! Don't even talk about it! _It didn't happen_!"

Ino's eyes narrow in a decidedly evil manner. "What, you almost kissing Itachi?"

"_Ino_!"

"Hey, it's not my fault that you and Itachi almost had a smoldering make-out session under the stars—"

Sakura grabs another cushion, looking ready to do battle. "Ino, so help me Buddha, I swear I will—"

"You will get over yourself, realize that you finally have a chance at a relationship that will bring you happiness, and promptly pursue said chance?" Ino fairly sings, dodging the pillow adeptly.

Sakura buries her head in her hands. "I'm going to cry," she informs her best friend, her voice muffled.

Ino blinks. "I'm not stupid – you haven't cried in about five years. You're not going to start now."

"Ugh, you know me too well," Sakura complains, straightening with a defeated expression on her face.

Ino sights the window of opportunity given by this statement; it is a tiny window, yes, but she fully intends to take advantage of it. She quickly closes the distance between them, meeting her best friend's gaze. "Damn straight I know you too well; we've been friends for more than a decade, after all. I know you better than I know anybody else in the world."

She pokes Sakura in the forehead gently. "Obviously, I know you well enough to tell when you like somebody, and denying _that_ is an insult to the years and strength of our friendship. And, unfortunately, I also know what you're like when you're completely in denial about the aforementioned fact."

Sakura sighs deeply, leaning back on the sofa. "But Ino, this isn't like the whole thing with Genma a few years back. Or like that weird period when I was around fifteen or sixteen, where I thought I liked Naruto. This is – _serious,_ you know?"

Detecting a breakthrough, Ino presses a little bit more. "This has the potential to become a serious kind of relationship, or this has more serious barriers than the other two? Or…both?"

"Both," Sakura says glumly.

Feeling somewhat lost for words, Ino resorts to patting her on the shoulder a bit awkwardly. "Look, Sakura – we know better than anybody that life isn't all black and white, no matter what our profession guides us to believe. Life, and people, are all about the shades of gray. This is one of those instances…they may be S-class criminals, but they're just as human as we are. They have the same needs, and the same desires. They've done some awful things, yeah, but so have we."

She gestures toward the most recent in the series of paintings that adorn her walls. "And they are capable of beauty, and love, just like we are."

"…You're such a romantic, Ino," Sakura manages, at last.

"Yes," the other young woman crows, sensing triumph, "but I make _sense_, don't I?"

The pink-haired kunoichi hesitates for a moment. "I suppose."

"Excellent," Ino beams, flinging her arms around her shoulders. "So, now what?"

Sakura smiles, despite herself. "I'm not going to run off to Akatsuki Headquarters right now and declare my acceptance of him, you know."

Ino pouts. "Hey, a girl can hope, right?"

"Keep hoping," Sakura tells her, reaching for one of the address books on the coffee table. "I'll wait it out. And I'll – think about it, I guess."

"Which is more than you would have done before, anyway," Ino supplies, before intercepting the address book and rifling through it.

Sakura watches her, puzzled. "What are you doing?"

"Seeing who we're going to invite to your fabulous birthday celebration, duh," Ino replies absentmindedly.

"There is going to be no fabulous birthday celebration," Sakura plucks the address book out of her hands, "as I will be working on that day in the ANBU department at Hokage Tower."

Ino gapes, looking as if the arrival of the apocalypse has just been announced. "_No._"

"Yes. I guess you guys can just drop presents off at my desk, or whatever," Sakura says dismissively. "I mean, I don't even need anything, but I know you and Tenten are totally irrational when it comes to birthdays."

Suddenly, Ino begins to laugh, for no apparent reason, and Sakura looks at her curiously. "What?"

"Nothing," Ino giggles. "Just thinking about what your boyfriend and his posse are going to get you."

Sakura shudders at the very thought; both of Itachi being referred to as her _boyfriend_, and the rest of Akatsuki as his _posse_ – also, at the concept of what a renowned criminal organization would interpret as a satisfactory birthday present. "…Honestly, Ino? I don't even want to think about it."

-

_Metropolitan Area Closest To Akatsuki Headquarters_

-

"Are you fucking crazy, un?" Deidara hisses, under his breath. "If you come any closer to me with that _thing_, I swear to Buddha I will blow you up and take this entire place with me!"

Tobi gasps dramatically. "But you can't blow up Prada, Deidara-senpai!"

"Watch me, un," Deidara mutters darkly.

"Deidara," Itachi says, in his calmest and most dangerous tone. "Try on the scarf."

"No, un," the artist flatly refuses, backing away, and nearly colliding with a sales rack of the season's hottest trenchcoats. A nearby sales associate looks at him, worried. "It's _your_ presents for _your _girlfriend. _You_ can try it on, un."

"Stop it," Kisame murmurs, in an undertone. "We're attracting attention. Deidara, just try on the scarf – you have Sakura's delicate shoulders and throat, anyway."

Deidara scowls in his most vitriolic fashion, while simultaneously kissing his masculinity goodbye. He reaches out, resentfully, taking the stunning emerald scarf – woven out of the finest cashmere with genuine silver threads – before carefully winding it around his throat.

"You just look so beautiful, Deidara-senpai!" Tobi assures him brightly.

Deidara makes a strangled choking sound.

"I say yes," Kisame declares.

Itachi is harder to please; he folds his arms, regarding the emasculated artist impassively. "Rotate your person ninety degrees."

"_What—_"

"Just do it!" Kisame hisses, throwing a dubious look over at the nearby salesperson.

After five more minutes of Deidara modeling the emerald cashmere scarf, Itachi finally nods tersely. "Very well."

As if alerted by the words themselves, the salesman materializes at Itachi's elbow. "Anything I can do for you, sir?"

"I wish to purchase that one," Itachi instructs dispassionately, pointing at the area of the display that holds the rest of the emerald-and-silver cashmere scarves. "And that one," he indicates the next box over, which houses silk scarves of blazing, brilliant ruby, with golden threads.

The salesperson nearly salivates at the prospect of so much revenue garnered by just one visit. "I will ring those up immediately, sir." He takes one of each scarf and hastens toward the register, before turning back to regard the crowd of civilian-dressed – and, in Kisame's case, jutsu-disguised – Akatsuki members. "Anything else I can do for you upstanding young men?"

Deidara considers this. "Do you guys have hair products, un?"

The salesperson blinks. "My apologies, but no, sir."

"…Damn, un." As he disappears from view, Deidara directs a resentful look around the Prada outlet. "I _knew_ this place was too good to be true."

Kisame has other things on his mind besides listening to Deidara's woes; he takes Tobi by the scruff of the neck as discreetly as possible. "Stop looking at the cocktail dresses like that, kid."

Itachi returns, accompanied by a fine black bag. "We may mobilize." His eyes catalogue his comrades, before he blinks. "…Where is Hidan?"

"Oh, we sent him out looking for other potential stores," Kisame says airily. "We're out in polite society for the first time in years; might as well make the best of it, right?"

Tobi tugs on Kisame's sleeve. "Look, Kisame-san! It's Hidan-san, right outside the window!"

Hidan is, indeed, standing right outside of the window, regarding the Prada outlet with an expression of distaste marring his features. "It's just an excuse for sinful pride and fucking vanity, man," he mumbles, as the other Akatsuki members leave the store and join him. Due to the need to blend in, he is actually wearing a black t-shirt; he plucks at the collar, looking highly uncomfortable.

Deidara rolls his eyes at the resident zealot. "Find anything, un?"

Hidan snorts. "Everything _sucks. _There was this one place, though – it had all this fucking nasty shit in there, like stuffed animals and cute glass-blown figurines and adorable novelties that nobody even needs and greeting cards with soppy crap written on it—"

Itachi, Kisame, and Deidara all look properly revolted at the very idea of such a place.

Tobi claps his hands ecstatically. "Ooh, Hidan-san, that sounds absolutely perfect! What is this lovely location called, and where is it located?"

Hidan frowns, trying to remember the name. "It was something really fruity, uh, like – like…"

"Hot Topic?" Itachi suggests emotionlessly.

All of them give him incredulous looks. "What kinda store name is _that_?" Kisame asks, wrinkling up his nose.

Itachi shrugs. "We just passed it, and it looked sufficiently objectionable."

"No, I got it!" Hidan exclaims. "It was – the Hallmark Store. Or something totally pansy-ass like that."

Deidara smirks, slipping on the sunglasses he had nicked from the Chanel outlet. "Hallmark Store, meet Akatsuki, un."

Hidan shudders. "That sounds like a really fucking unholy equation, if you ask me."

-

"Singing cards," Itachi pronounces slowly. "Paper. That _sings_."

"Wow," Kisame exhales, as he surveys the massive wall of singing cards for all occasions. "We should definitely get out more."

Itachi retreats half a step. "This defies the natural order of things. I am leaving."

Deidara reaches toward the nearest Happy Birthday card; when he opens it, it promptly breaks out into a rousing chorus of some popular song that nobody seems to know except Tobi, who starts singing along.

"Ugh," Hidan growls, shaking his head. "Too fucking happy. Shut up, swirly-face."

Deidara snaps the card shut. "Okay, un. We'll meet back in front of the giant balloon-thing in fifteen, and each of us should bring a potential card. Make sure it's aesthetically appealing and the singing doesn't completely suck, un."

Hidan, Deidara, and Tobi all disperse obligingly, leaving Itachi standing in front of the wall of cards, regarding them warily. Kisame pats Itachi on the shoulder. "Don't worry. They won't bite."

Itachi sniffs. "…If you say so."

-

_Throughout The Next Hour…_

-

"No, Tobi, we cannot get Sakura a card that sings Lady Marmalade, un."

-

"Kisame, I feel as if this may be the one occasion in which a _Jaws_-themed card would be inappropriate."

-

"Hidan-san, I think that particular card is a little too scary—"

-

"Itachi, we are not getting Sakura a card that sings music of the death metal…genre."

-

"Tobi, why the hell would Sakura want a card with a Band-Aid on it, un?"

-

"Kisame, I think _you're_ the only one who'd like a fucking Finding Nemo card for your birthday."

-

"Hidan, I do not think Sakura would find a card emblazoned with a giant picture of your god to be – desirable."

-

"Itachi, Cannibal Corpse is still a death metal band. Put. It. Down."

-

"Tobi, why are there frolicking multi-colored bears on that? Put it the _fuck_ away!"

-

"Deidara, Picasso cutting off his ear hardly makes for a great birthday card."

-

"Kisame, that is far too risqué. I do not want to _bump and grind_ with anybody, as it sounds rather painful and generally objectionable."

-

"Itachi, so help me Buddha, if you bring _one_ more death metal band over here, I'm drinking the rest of your goddamn Vitamin Water."

-

After more than an hour of such exchanges, Itachi, Kisame, Hidan, and Deidara are all sitting in front of the giant balloon, looking more than a little discouraged.

"Fuck," Hidan grouses, "dismembering and assassinating people is infinitely preferable to this shit."

Kisame and Deidara nod in agreement, while Itachi merely massages his throbbing temples.

"Where's Tobi, un?" Deidara mumbles. "Maybe this whole horrific ordeal will be better after we send him over across the street to get a strawberry frappuchino."

Kisame un-buries his head from his arms, in order to look through the greeting card aisle curiously. "Now that you mention it, I haven't seen him in a while."

As if the words themselves had summoned him, Tobi toddles out of a nearby section of the store, clutching yet another singing card in his hands and looking far too pleased with himself for his good. "Comrades!" he exults, clutching the card tighter. "I found it! The _perfect_ card!"

Hidan groans, swatting the air absently. "No. No more. Have mercy. I can't take it."

Not put off in the least by this statement, Tobi kneels in front of them and shows off his find proudly. "Isn't it _pretty_?"

Itachi regards it with an air of suspicion. "It has a heart on it. Not an anatomically correct one, either. A generic and commercialized heart. I refuse on principle."

Deidara frowns thoughtfully. "No, un – I hate to agree with the dumbass, but it's really aesthetically appealing. The heart isn't too big or too small, and see? It's got every shade of color blended into it perfectly, un."

Kisame leans over, looking at it. "You're right, it's pretty. But really subtle and not obnoxious."

Tobi beams, overjoyed. "Hidan-san?"

"Fucking gorgeous," Hidan mutters reluctantly.

"Sorry, Itachi," Kisame consoles. "It looks like you've been overruled. Hey, Tobi – does it sing?"

"Of course!" Tobi chirps.

Itachi rolls his eyes minutely. "Oh, joy," he deadpans.

Without further ado, Tobi flips the card open; it is blank on the inside, probably to allow for a customized message. Itachi fully supports this idea – he has seen far too many ridiculously sentimental or downright inane messages for one day. Then, however, the card starts to sing.

It is a gentle melody, sung in the soft, sweet tone that Konan sometimes listens to on the nearly-broken stereo when she thinks that all of them are asleep. In a pleasant contrast to the music on the other cards, though, the only featured instrumental within this song is the strumming of a laid-back…ukulele?

There is a whole minute of silence, which is truly a rare occasion, as all of them sit back and listen to the card.

"…No," Itachi croaks, at last. "No."

There is an alarmingly manic look in Deidara's visible eye. "What the hell, un? This song was like, _written_ for you!"

"No," Itachi repeats firmly.

Kisame shrugs sheepishly. "Nothing's going to stop me but divine intervention?" he quotes directly. "That _does _sound a lot like you."

Itachi stares at him, wordlessly.

"Open up your mind, and see like me? Open up your plans, and damn, you're free." Hidan completes, scowling. "Aren't you trying to convince this irate kunoichi to go out with you even though she has a case of massive denial straight outta hell? This song sends a fucking _message,_ little red-eye."

"And it's a nice message, too," Tobi chips in. "It sounds so sweet and persuasive and gentle and loving!"

Itachi's left eye twitches, and his Sharingan automatically engages, and starts swirling. "I am hardly sweet, persuasive, gentle, _or_ loving. Quite the opposite, as a matter of fact."

"Yeah, un, you're a criminalistic, psychotic asshole," Deidara says wisely. "But you're a criminalistic, psychotic asshole who really cares about your girl, and this little song totally conveys the whole _caring_ deal, un."

Kisame stands up decisively, for once, taking advantage of his position as de facto Leader while Pein and Konan are absent. "Tobi, ring it up."

For once in his life, Itachi is reduced to actual, complete speechlessness, before he turns on his partner dangerously. "_What_?"

"Sorry, Itachi," Kisame apologizes. "You know that I have the greatest amount of respect for you, but I am fairly certain I am acting in your best interests in this case. And everybody else agrees with me, too. And you know how rare _that_ is."

Hidan and Deidara simultaneously give Kisame the finger, even as Tobi comes skipping back, card firmly ensconced in a pink bag, emblazoned with the Hallmark crown. He strikes a dramatic pose. "Let's rock and roll, guys!"

Itachi sweeps out of the store wordlessly, radiating an aura of heightened murderousness. He does not speak a word to any of them until they have returned to Headquarters, and are sitting around the kitchen table; making waffles, drinking Vitamin Water, and eating peppermint ice cream, respectively. "…This had better be successful."

"Oh, it will," Tobi says cheerily, flipping a waffle.

"Abso-fucking-lutely," Hidan echoes, mid-swig of Vitamin Water.

Deidara sneers at him. "Yeah, we'll be accepting your endless gratitude when this is all over and done with, un."

"Relax; it'll be fine," Kisame assures.

Itachi blinks, and one of the ants scuttling about near his elbow drops dead spontaneously. "It had better be. Otherwise, I will kill all of you in your sleep."

Deidara smirks. "Oh, really, un? The Itachi I first met would have skinned us alive, before dropping us into vats of boiling oil." He raises an eyebrow suggestively. "Love must be turning you soft, un."

There are a few moments of silence before Itachi unearths his stolen steak knife, and then, predictably enough, all havoc breaks loose.

-

_Afternoon, March 28_

-

Sakura runs her fingers through her hair for what has to be the hundredth time, as she takes yet another look at her massive report detailing the need for medic training to be required for at least one person out of the typical three-man team. The neatly written words seem to swim together and blur into one, and she blinks, thoroughly exhausted.

Then a giant lavender gift bag makes contact with her desk, and Sakura jumps in her seat, startled. "Tenten! Sorry, I just didn't see you there."

The older kunoichi leans down to give her a hug, accepting her thanks with a smile. "You're totally overworked, you know. You had better take the day off tomorrow." She looks around, before lowering her voice conspiratorially. "After all, our spa tickets in the bag are booked for tomorrow, anyway. So that's a sure-fire excuse."

Sakura rolls her eyes affectionately. "How very calculating of you. Anyway, I might call you and Ino tonight, after I get off duty, okay?"

Tenten nods her assent and waves goodbye, as she slips out the door – knowing the nature of her genin team, it isn't particularly wise to leave them alone for anything more than the briefest period of time.

In the next hour, Sakura attempts to revise her paper, but it is a futile endeavor. Ino stops by a few minutes after Tenten and practically sets up camp there, and is soon joined by Neji, Shikamaru, and Kiba, who all bring a various assortment of foods and gifts.

Sakura's small, organized office in the ANBU Department soon declines into full-out party central, thanks to Ino and Kiba's naturally exuberant personalities. They are loudly reminiscing about Sakura's last birthday, in which Lee and Tenten had supervised catering, and had ordered a freakishly huge amount of the spiciest variety of the infamous Curry of Life for dinner. Neji blanches drastically at the very mention of the incident, and is frantically – and unsuccessfully – attempting to derail the dangerous topic of conversation, when the kitten appears on Sakura's desk.

It is an orange kitten, with curiously familiar black, swirly patterns adorning its cute little features. Kiba promptly begins growling, his hackles fairly rising, while Ino attempts to hold him back. Shikamaru observes it curiously. "Animal summons? And what's that package tied to his back – it looks a bit too big for him."

Neji, glad for the change in topic, nods his agreement. "Whose is it?"

Sakura laughs, a little nervously, as she reaches for Tobi's summons; the little marmalade cat meows lovingly, winding through her hands, as the kunoichi prays that whatever is in the delivered package won't be anything incriminating. "Ah, it's just – a group of some Amekagure shinobi I met during a mission a while ago. We've been writing back and forth."

She plucks the ribbon holding the package loose from the cat's midsection; he purrs gratefully. Despite the fact that Kiba has taken refuge against the bookshelf on the opposite side of the room, muttering something resentfully about allergies and damned feline dander, Ino joins them, judging the situation correctly from the look on Sakura's face. She stands behind Shikamaru and Neji, looks back and forth between them, and then mouths _I'll knock them out if you want me to._

Sakura shakes her head subtly, and begins undoing the pale green tissue wrappings, as the others watch her curiously. With the next movement of her hands, two sleek, beautiful scarves fall out onto her desk, intertwined with one another.

Even the male shinobi are unable to suppress soft inhalations upon sighting the vibrant colors; Ino, however, squeaks and clutches at her throat. "Are those _Prada_?"

"I think so…"

Astonished, Sakura reaches out to touch them, but Kiba tosses his head to the air and sniffs. "Wait, there's more in the package thingy."

Wondering what _more_ there could be, Sakura reaches into the wrappings, gropes around for a moment, and finally comes out with a square, crystalline bottle, stoppered with a solid onyx prism. Neji steals the words out of her mouth – "Chanel No. 5?" he asks incredulously.

Everybody takes a moment to cease in their awe of Sakura's presents in order to give him astonished looks. He raises his hands defensively. "I purchased some for Hinata's last birthday, all right?"

Shikamaru and Kiba snigger behind their hands, and Neji glowers.

"Wow, Sakura," Ino says mischievously. "Who are these Amekagure shinobi, anyway? With money like this, they must be like – clan heirs, or something!"

Sakura glares daggers at her. "Perhaps."

The kitty takes a moment to step forward, before pawing delicately at the pink tissue paper.

"Ugh, it looks like the demon spawn's on to something," Kiba mumbles, before attempting to place Ino between himself and the cat.

Tobi's cat summons had been right; Sakura tentatively unearths a card from the very bottom of the packaging. "Aww, it's so pretty," Ino coos.

Shikamaru regards it critically. "Not anatomically correct, but pretty."

"What are you waiting for?" Kiba teases, draping an arm over Ino's shoulders. "Open it. Unless it's got some kind of hot, steamy love note written on the inside and you'd prefer to save that for later."

Sakura smirks at him. "Hardly."

Without taking a moment to consider things further, Sakura flips the card open.

Again, Neji, Shikamaru, and Kiba all recoil when they hear it break into song. Ino squeals. "_It sings_!"

All of them are preoccupied with the novel concept, and Sakura takes the opportunity to tilt the card up a little, reading the inscription, which is written in Deidara's customary loopy script and red gel pen.

_Dear Sakura,_

_Hope you like the stuff. And we didn't steal it, either, so there's no need to be worried. Anyway, you're totally irate, a candidate for a heart attack brought on by high blood pressure (according to Bruce over here), kinda crazy, and a totally dangerous badass, to boot. Which pretty much means you fit in with us quite well, no matter what you'd like to think. Anyway, your ridiculous degree of loyalty aside, you're…unique. Or something like that. Happy birthday!_

(here, Sakura observes with a frown, there are several mysterious scribbles)

…_Okay, well, I meant to say _Love_, on account of it being your birthday and all. But Little Red-Eye said I couldn't. _

_Cordially,_

_The Cool Kids_

_P.S: The song? It's from Little Red-Eye. _

(Sakura is downright startled when she sees several spatters of what look like blood after this statement, before the handwriting and writing utensil changes abruptly, into blue ink.)

…_Uh. It's 'Bruce.' Deidara just his hand broken and a giant gash cut across his left arm. You could probably guess the perpetrator. Anyway, many happy returns and stuff. 'Tobias' says he loves you and that you're his bestest friend. The, um, resident priest says to give his regards to your mother. And I just wanted to tell you to remember your breathing exercises and stuff._

Sakura blinks.

"Hm," Neji offers, as he reads it over her shoulder. "Who is Little Red-Eye?"

Sakura forces a smile. "He's just…one of the guys. He's got a perpetual case of conjunctivitis that he can't seem to shake, and they like to, uh, mock him."

"Ah."

She looks up, to find Ino and Kiba waltzing in the amount of free space in the office, while Shikamaru taps along with the beat of the singing card with his fingers. He offers her a lazy smile. "Your friends have some good taste in music, you know."

For the first time, Sakura actually listens to it; she realizes, with a jolt, that had been one of her favorite songs from the previous year. Nobody knows this, of course – it's a sweet, romantic tune, reduced to guilty pleasure status. And there is no way _Itachi_, of all people, could have guessed. It must have been a coincidence. A weird, random coincidence; he had probably picked the first somewhat-decent looking card off the shelf.

But as she listens to the lyrics, for the first time in about a year, Sakura blinks, her usual composure cracking a little.

"Eh, Sakura?" Shikamaru asks mildly, and she notices, starting slightly, that they had all been staring at her. "What's up?"

Sakura looks up at him, attempting to generate some semblance of her customary attitude. "Oh, nothing! I'm just a little tired, that's all."

Ino gives her a look that is far too knowing for her own good. "All right, guys," she declares, clapping her eyes. "We've taken up Sakura's time for long enough – the sooner we get out of here, the sooner she can finish her paper, go home, and get some rest, so that we can all party tomorrow. Is that clear?"

Neji and Shikamaru nod; they wish her happy birthday one last time, and Shikamaru ruffles her hair on their way out. Ino and Kiba leave soon afterward, with slightly mischievous smiles.

In privacy, once again, Sakura takes a deep, shuddering breath, burying her fingers in her hair. Tobi's cat-summons mews worriedly, rubbing his little pink nose against hers.

After a few moments of thought, she pulls out a sheet of memo paper and her customary purple gel pen from a nearby drawer.

_Itachi,_

_Meet me at the Fire Country border at sunset._

_-Sakura_

She places it in the cat's mouth, and it meows softly. "Thank you," Sakura murmurs, petting it.

The kitty licks her one last time, around the paper, before disappearing in a swirl of confetti; leaving Sakura completely alone with her thoughts.

-

_Akatsuki Headquarters_

-

"Okay, un," Deidara says firmly. "If you screw this up, don't bother coming back. Just go to the nearest retired elderly person center and start selling your poetry, un."

Kisame gives him a dirty look. "You're not going to screw anything up, Itachi."

"I really fucking hate to say this," Hidan rolls his eyes, "but I've got faith in you, little red-eye."

Itachi blinks. "Thank you. I can live a much happier and more fulfilling life, now that I have your approval."

"…Pushing it, little red-eye. Pushing it."

Tobi bounces up and down, excited. "Ooh, Itachi-san! Do you feel ready? Are you pumped?"

"Yes," Itachi deadpans, his features as impassive as ever.

Kisame scowls at him in what could almost be termed as an affectionate manner, before pushing him out of the door. "Oh, get out. And don't forget to grab some flowers on the way there."

The door slams behind him, and Itachi looks somewhat pained.

-

_Konoha_

-

The second Sakura finishes her paper, she deposits it on the Hokage's desk and slips out of the Tower; it only takes five minutes for her to obtain security clearance, and then she is out in the forest, heading north, toward the Fire Country's borders.

It is an hour of steady, continuous traveling, but her mind is whirring so speedily that the time just seems to fly by. That is, until she spots the black-and-red cloaked figure, standing in the center of the clearing.

Sakura touches down swiftly and silently, but he turns, anyway, and she sees that he is clutching a shriveled, black rose in one white-knuckled fist.

"Uchiha," she says, levelly.

Itachi's grip tightens slightly around the rose. "…Sakura."

Within a few moments, she has advanced upon him, so that they are almost nose-to-nose. Sakura places her hands on her hips as she looks up at him, and the slight evening breeze ruffles her hair. "…If I agree to date you, will you leave me alone?"

Itachi blinks, momentarily confused. "I admit that my knowledge of such fields is limited, but I am fairly certain that is not how such matters are supposed to be handled; although I am sure that we could work out an alternative arrangement, if that is what you wish."

It takes a moment for him to realize that Sakura's hands have left her hips; she reaches up, tentatively placing them on his shoulders, and slipping them up behind his neck. "Maybe it's just your lucky day, Itachi," she murmurs softly, and slowly, "but it just so happens that is _not _what I wish."

"…Ah." Itachi pauses, for a moment, fully intending to listen for the detonation of clay explosives or rampaging, genetically altered teenagers, but Sakura has no such reservations.

In the next moment, sooner than he can blink, her hands have tangled in his hair, pulling him down to her level, and then, clay explosives and rampaging, genetically altered teenagers have suddenly become the very last thing on Itachi's mind.

-

From the shelter of the nearby treetops, Kisame snickers, as he watches Itachi tentatively pull his newfound girlfriend closer to him. "Hey, Deidara," he whispers. "You owe me a year's supply of Vitamin Water. And five thousand yen."

Deidara glares at the couple sourly. "That's _nauseating,_ un. Positively sickening." Nevertheless, he grudgingly removes five thousand-yen bills from an inner pocket of his cloak and tosses them over to the shark-man. To his surprise, though, Kisame has already turned to go. "Where are _you_ going, un?"

Kisame turns around. "Back to Headquarters, of course. I'm sure Itachi would want us, as the chief engineers of this master plot, to spread the happy news."

Deidara grins evilly. "We can make his life miserable for the rest of forever, un. Hey, what do you think – better than _ANBU Romance_, un?"

Kisame smirks, taking another look at the unaware, and unlikely, couple. "Better than _ANBU Romance._ And that, my obnoxious friend, is definitely saying something."

-

_the end._

-

…

OMG! :D

Now, I would like to engage in a quick vote. There may be an epilogue, but that's up to you. You may say "AYE" if you want an epilogue, and "GTFO YOU CRAZY TEENAGER" if you object to an epilogue.

But wait.

If you are reluctant to commit to such a vague idea, let me first inform you that the epilogue will not be lame. It will not be one of those Harry-Potter-esque "All was well" epilogues. It will be freakin' beast, and it will involve features including, but not limited to:

- An insane mission

- A wedding (but whose?)

- Awkward socialization

And the ultimate and epic showdown between none other than Sasuke and Itachi. Yeah. That too.

So, yeah. Vote, if you are so inclined.

Oh, and on a slightly more frivolous note? Today was my sixteenth birthday. Show some love? :)


	12. Love Lockdown

_Wow. I am totally overwhelmed by the positive response to the last chapter – thank you so much to everybody who reviewed, and for the amazing birthday wishes. :) You guys are truly awesome and make me very happy. Lyrics later in this chapter are the copyright material of Taylor Swift's single, Love Story. This epilogue itself is set one and a half years after the previous chapter, and the war with Sound is still on, except dwindling to a close. _

-

When Konan informs Itachi over breakfast one morning that Pein has a special solo assignment for him, Itachi is hardly worried. Too much time spent cooped up in Headquarters – with the dubious company of Hidan, Kisame, Deidara, and Tobi, no less – makes him restless, which, therefore, makes it all the much harder to control his customary murderous impulses.

When she tells him, however, that he will receive the assignment briefing in the dank, dilapidated Akatsuki basement, Itachi is even more interested. Since Leader-sama had begun dating Konan, years ago, he had preferred a more comfortable and familial environment for the members of his organization to enjoy; therefore, the basement is reserved for only the most serious and dastardly forms of business.

Itachi takes a bottle of Vitamin Water along for the ride, and descends into the depths of the basement, finding the Leader waiting for him at the round table. It is early enough for the rest of Akatsuki to be sleeping, still, and the house is unusually silent. Normally, he prefers silence, but this particular brand of eerie calm is unsettlingly reminiscent of the eye of the storm.

They exchange the typical civilities, before Pein steeples his fingers and braces his chin on them, as he regards one of the most senior Akatsuki members, and Itachi notices that the Rinnegan is flickering on and off.

"You are still – affiliated – with Haruno Sakura, correct?" Pein asks abruptly.

Itachi had hardly been expecting to hear this, and he raises an eyebrow impassively. "Very much so." There is a heartbeat of silence. "Will this prove to be an obstacle to the nature of this assignment?"

The Leader clears his throat. "Ah – no. Actually, it is essential to the…nature…of your assignment."

The Uchiha prodigy blinks; surveying his Leader through narrowed, cautious eyes. In a marked contrast to his usual calm demeanor, Pein seems to be positively…twitchy. "Really," Itachi comments, before inclining his head slightly. "In that case, I would appreciate some clarification as to the exact details of my assignment."

To his surprise, Pein shakes his head, looking off into the distance. "Konan and I have been…close…for an extended period of time. Several years, as a matter of fact."

Upon confronted with a non sequitur of such epic proportions, Itachi is disconcerted to realize that he has no concept of what an appropriate response would to this be. "…Ah," he says tactfully. "With all due respect, how does this play into—"

Pein waves his hand, a little agitatedly, and the Rinnegan flickers even faster. "After much consideration," he continues, at length, "I have come to the decision that I would like to make my relationship with Konan – official. Legitimized."

Even though no outward emotion reflects in his features, Itachi is now positively alarmed; a lesser Akatsuki member would have been shaking at the knees, or cowering under the table, as the case may be.

Pein clears his throat again, before fixing his unblinking violet gaze on Itachi. "In answer to your earlier inquiry, you and Sakura will provide the catalysis for the operation of my plans."

It takes approximately one second for Itachi to decipher the meaning behind this ambiguous statement, but he stares at the Leader for another two, wondering if the strain of organizing and leading Akatsuki for so long has finally taken a toll on his sanity. "…Pardon?" he asks, for sheer lack of anything better to say.

"You heard me," Pein counters, folding his arms.

If it were not firmly beneath Uchiha dignity to gape, Itachi would be doing so very devotedly. "I refuse," he says flatly, on principle.

It is Pein's turn to raise an eyebrow. "You have never refused an assignment, Uchiha Itachi. As a matter of fact, you know that refusal of assignments is strictly prohibited. And do not even think of threatening resignation – you and I are both aware that you would never be content to retire to a small apartment, live the civilian lifestyle, and spend the rest of your days authoring bestselling novels."

Itachi and Pein engage in a solid minute's worth of Battle Of The Menacing Doujutsu, before Itachi relents. "There must be some other possible – catalyzing factors."

Pein actually snorts. "We are a notorious terrorist organization comprised of mass-murdering psychopaths suffering from various degrees of insanity. There are no other catalyzing factors."

Itachi scowls, looking decidedly menacing. "Create some."

Pein glares back. "Do not mistake me – this assignment is not an option." He pushes his chair back, and then rises. "I trust you will make the right decision, as there is only one right decision. Needless to say, this entire endeavor is highly confidential; nobody may know, not even the rest of our brethren. They lack discretion."

"Naturally, as they would find it so very easy to believe that somebody of my nature would consider – ah…" Itachi seems to struggle with the word, "_proposing_…so suddenly and out of the blue. In order to afford _you_ with the perfectly opportune moment in which to inform Konan of your long-term intentions."

Pein smirks in a rare moment of levity, as he makes his way up the rickety wooden staircase. "As a matter of fact, I think they would accept it quite readily. In case it has escaped you, we live in a very strange world."

In the next moment, he is gone, leaving Itachi sitting alone in the dark, alone with his thoughts, his completely unhelpful Vitamin Water, and what is undoubtedly the Mission From Hell. "Quite to the contrary, I am very much aware," he says to himself, and the Sharingan engages itself and begins to swirl, while the beginnings of a devious plot begin to unfold within his mind…

-

_Three Days Later_

-

"I _still_ can't believe the bastard decided to propose, un," Deidara marvels, for at least the hundredth time, while spoon-feeding the mouth on his hand some Frosted Flakes. "Wonders never cease. I wonder what she'll say, un?"

"Now, now, Deidara-senpai," Tobi chides, as he flips a waffle, "I'm sure that Itachi-san is perfectly legitimate. And of _course_ Sakura-san will accept!"

Kisame smirks at him, before reclaiming the box of Frosted Flakes. "Care to bet that she _won't _accept?"

Deidara shudders at the memory of the original bet. "No thanks, un. I found out that it's bad luck to bet against the little red-eye. Besides, the whole Vitamin-Water-for-a-year thing cost me like six months' worth of assignments, un! Six months!"

Hidan has more pragmatic thoughts on his mind; he drinks the last of the milk right out of the carton, and slams it back down on the table, so that droplets go flying everywhere. "Bit sudden, though, don't you think?"

Deidara cringes, wiping the milk off him delicately. "She's put up with his freakishness for one and a half _years_, un. And here I thought we were the only ones who could deal with him for that long."

Hidan shrugs, still not completely convinced. "Whatever. Where is he, anyway?"

"Basement, talking to Leader-sama," Kisame replies absently.

"Actually, no," Itachi cuts in smoothly, as he enters the kitchen, before proceeding to scan all the counter surfaces with his gaze. "…Where are the Fruit Loops?"

"There should be an extra box in one of the cabinets, Itachi-san," Tobi chirps cheerily. "But I'm making my best strawberry waffles! Do you want some of those instead?"

Itachi takes a moment to consider this momentous question, before his concentration is abruptly shattered by the sudden arrival of a purple pig. Tobi shrieks and burns his waffle, Deidara yelps and the hand on his mouth vomits liquefied clay, and Kisame chokes on his Frosted Flakes.

"_Fuck_!" Hidan screeches, after he manages to pull himself up off the floor. "I fucking hate animal summons! They _suck_!"

"Aww, poor piggy…" Tobi reaches out toward the pig, having recovered fairly quickly, but surprisingly, it bares its teeth and snorts aggressively at him, before advancing, and butting Itachi on the arm.

Itachi blinks; surely enough, it has a pink envelope clutched in his mouth. Somewhat warily, as the obnoxious creature is pawing the ground as if considering the idea of a charge, he reaches out and extricates said envelope.

Deidara, mopping up the mouth on his hand, wanders over, followed by Kisame. The artist frowns upon seeing the name on the front of the envelope. "What the hell is a Yamanaka Ino, un?"

The name sounds oddly familiar, and Itachi frowns, trying to place it. "…I believe that it may be one of Sakura's friends."

The irritable pig nips Kisame on the elbow, and the shark-man winces. "Hurry up; I think this annoying little thing wants you to open it."

For the sake of preventing any further injury to his partner's person, Itachi expressionlessly withdraws the letter from the envelope. It is written on Sakura's customary mint-green memo paper, but the script is very different – it is crafted out of sparkly blue gel pen, along with several flourishes that are oddly reminiscent of Deidara's style of handwriting.

This isn't the truly horrifying part, though. That honor is reserved for the moment when the finely wrought silver-and-emerald engagement ring that he had purchased for Sakura falls out from the envelope, landing with a gentle _clink_ on the counter's surface. Tobi has to bodily pick the angry purple pig up to prevent it from attempting to ingest the ring, and, feeling somewhat dazed, Itachi slips it back into the inner pocket of his cloak, as the other Akatsuki members stare at the letter curiously.

_Dear Itachi,_

_You don't know me, but I know you. Wait – that sounds really creepy, yeah, but it's true. I've never actually seen you before, but Sakura's told me enough that I feel like I've got a fairly good grasp on your personality to judge this situation correctly._

_So. You probably know that Sakura's on that diplomatic mission to Suna, and won't be back for another couple of days. I assume that's why you chose yesterday to sneak into her apartment and leave this lovely little engagement ring on the center of her empty coffee table, seeing as, due to the strategic positioning, it's likely to be the first thing that Sakura sees upon entering her apartment. I know this, because when I stopped by last night to make sure her plants were watered, it was the first thing _I_ noticed. It was a cute gesture, I guess. _

_However, it is most certainly _not_ the right way to propose to Sakura. I mean, it would be okay if this was just some random little gift, but it is so not. This is a proposal of freakin' _marriage_. And it's not just any proposal, either. It's _your_ proposal to _my_ best friend in the entire world, and you are not going to fuck it up. It had better be really damn perfect or you're going to have the combined wrath of the Yamanaka, Nara, and Akimichi clans upon you for the rest of your life, Uchiha. I'm not even kidding. _

_Due to my kind and benevolent nature, I grabbed the ring on my way out, and decided to send it back to you – giving you a second chance, of sorts. Although, seeing as all you have for company are a bunch of guys who seem to be as socially retarded as you are, your second chance may turn out to be an even bigger screw-up than this one. So, my advice is to watch the fourth season finale of ANBU Romance, when the Hawk proposes to the Cat. That's all I'm going to say; the rest is up to you. _

_-Yamanaka Ino _

Itachi blinks upon concluding his perusal of the scorching missive. Upon lowering it from his immediate field of vision, though, he does not see sympathy written on the faces of the other Akatsuki members – rather, expressions of unmitigated horror and revulsion.

"What the hell, un? You tried to propose by leaving the ring on her _coffee table_?" Deidara squawks indignantly, as if he had been the one to suffer this inglorious proposal.

"Well—"

"That's just so fucked up," Hidan interrupts, shaking his head slowly.

Itachi turns to Kisame, but the shark-man puts his hand in front of his face. "Please don't look at me. I need a moment."

Thankfully, Tobi prances over to him, waffles forgotten, and attempts to hug his arm. "Why didn't you just ask us for help, Itachi-san?"

Itachi's left eye twitches slightly. "…The answer should be self-explanatory. And don't touch me."

Kisame promptly grabs him by the other arm, none too gently, and begins pulling him to the main lair. "What are you doing?" Itachi asks, scandalized.

Kisame glares at him. "Don't give me that, Uchiha. That Ino girl is definitely right; we have some serious _ANBU Romance_ watching to do."

Itachi fairly digs his heels into the ground. "I refuse—"

Deidara and Hidan promptly aid Kisame in escorting him to the main lair. "Sorry, un. Refusal isn't an option."

Itachi glowers silently, dislocates Hidan's left arm and Deidara's right, and stalks into the lair of his own accord, while wondering when that phrase had become the story of his life.

-

However, two days later – after watching far too much _ANBU Romance_ for his own personal health – the torture pays off, when, at approximately 11:53 PM, Sakura accepts his proposal. Itachi just smirks. And he doesn't stop until about a week later, when his fiancée informs him, over dinner at the Rusty Hangnail, that before they can set a date, there is something highly crucial that they must do.

Itachi blinks. "…In the past year or so, I have come to develop a slight appreciation for the art of snide witticisms, but I do not think that one is appropriate in this situation."

Sakura laughs nervously, brushing her hair out of her eyes. "I, uh – I'm not joking. At all."

He is somewhat unsure of how to respond to this latest new development, and in the end, he settles for crushing a complimentary fortune cookie into dust. "Who?" Itachi asks abruptly.

Sakura takes a sip of her martini, and can't help but shudder at the very thought. "…Naruto," she says, in a very small voice.

Itachi just stares back at her. "I was under the impression," he pronounces, "that you had – informed everybody important."

The pink-haired kunoichi fidgets uncomfortably. "I did. Trust me. I'm never going to forget an experience of _that_ caliber." Horrible memories flit through her head, of Tsunade-shishou choking on sake and Kakashi fainting and being in a near-comatose state for the better part of two days and Lee and Tenten's looks of sheer, unadulterated horror and Genma's swallowing his senbon and puncturing his tonsils—

Itachi takes pity, and reaches forward to pat her hand lightly. She gives him a small smile of gratitude. "You know Naruto's been off training with Jiraiya to become Rokudaime, and – well, if I told him, he'd just come running back, screaming all the way, completely convinced that I was under the influence of some vile genjutsu…so…I just refrained, for the sake of the well-being of Konoha? But don't worry," she hastens to reassure him. "He's been gone for two years, and from his letters, he really does sound like he's mellowed out and gotten a lot more mature."

The Uchiha prodigy raises an eyebrow, his skepticism evident. "If you say so."

Sakura kicks him in the shin playfully. "Don't take that tone; he _is_ one of my best friends, you know. Just leave it up to me. I'll handle it."

"My faith in you," Itachi deadpans, "is overwhelming."

Sakura laughs and throws a sushi roll at him, just for old times' sake.

-

_The Next Day_

-

"Freak! Asshole! Bastard! Stay _away_ from me! Or, actually…" there is a disturbingly scarlet flash in Uzumaki Naruto's normally clear blue eyes, as he struggles futilely against the chains that hold him to the iron chair. "Come a little closer, so I can rip your stupid eyeballs out, feed them to you, and then kill your sorry ass!"

Itachi sighs nearly imperceptibly, advancing on the Kyuubi vessel, who redoubles his efforts to extricate himself. If _this_ is how Sakura 'handles' her irritating counterpart of a best friend, he shudders to think about what the little brat would have been like as a younger adolescent. "Calm yourself," he says impassively.

Naruto only struggles harder against his bonds. "No! I refuse, you – you…teammate-stealing-cradle-robbing-clan-killing-Sasuke-torturing-sadist-asshole-bastard!"

This remarkable list is entirely uttered in the same breath, and Itachi takes advantage of the ensuing moment of silence to get a word in edgewise, as he folds his arms over his Akatsuki cloak and regards the obnoxious future Rokudaime dispassionately. "Let me address your claims in sequential order," he says evenly. "I never _stole_ Sakura from either you or my foolish little brother, in any case, she is not a possession to be _stolen._ Furthermore, she is a mere five years my junior; hardly scandalous. I choose not to address the third attack, as it is completely irrelevant to the situation at hand. The fourth – I would refrain from it, if it were not so exquisitely enjoyable. As for the rest, in order: guilty as charged, join the club, and I admit that I have many redoubtable qualities, but I do assure you that my birth was under perfectly legitimate circumstances."

Naruto blinks, ceasing his struggle for a moment. "…I don't give a damn about your stupid rebuttals! I hate your freakin' guts and I'll never approve you and Sakura-chan being together!"

Itachi smirks slightly, enjoying his position of power over the younger man. "You say that as if it makes a difference."

Naruto gawks, momentarily lost for words; for a moment, Itachi thinks he has won, but then a look of surprising cunning slides into his eyes. "Fine!" he exclaims abruptly. "You know what, Uchiha? It makes a difference, and you know it. But," he considers, a look of deep thought sliding over his face. Itachi observes in silence, privately amazed that he is even _capable_ of such an expression.

"Bring back Sasuke," Naruto tells him coolly, having summoned some sort of previously unknown reserve of composure. "And then we'll talk."

Itachi had hardly been expecting _this_, of all things; he masks his confusion by raising an eyebrow. "You want me to retrieve my foolish little brother? For _you_?"

He hadn't expected the look of barely concealed pain that flickers over the Uzumaki's face, either. "I can't do it," he manages. "Don't get me wrong, I hate asking more than anything else, but – you're the only one who can. And it's not just for me – it's for Sakura, too. We were all part of Team Seven. We were family."

Itachi studies him in silence for a few moments, through veiled eyelashes. Finally, he inclines his head, very slightly. "I will make no promises. But I will try."

Reluctantly, a small smile breaks out over Naruto's face. "You better work that sick, twisted mind of yours extra hard then – it's not going to be easy."

"Quite the contrary," Itachi counters evenly, before smirking in a way that can only be described as the essence of pure evil. "I have the perfect idea."

-

_Small Town On The Outskirts Of Sound_

-

_Haruno Sakura and Uchiha Itachi are proud to announce the joyous occasion of their upcoming marriage! Your presence would be welcomed at the ceremony itself, as well as the fantastic reception afterward. Please (personally) RSVP as soon as possible to Hokage Tower or Akatsuki Headquarters, respectively. We look forward to seeing you there!_

The beautiful ivory-colored wedding announcement drops from Uchiha Sasuke's suddenly nerveless grip, to the cold, stone floor. He stares at it for a whole minute, before throwing Uchiha clan dignity to the wind and falling to his knees. His fingers scrabble at the corners of the invitation, before he brings it an inch away from his nose. Further scrutiny does not change the elegant script – it still reads, as clearly as day, _Haruno Sakura_, and _Uchiha Itachi._

Sakura.

Team Seven Sakura. Little pink-haired sweet innocent too nurturing and too strong and too emotional _Sakura._

And Itachi.

_Uchiha_ Itachi.

Uchiha _freakin' _Itachi.

Sasuke throws his head back, and begins to laugh. It is a strange sort of laughter, one that is bordering on hysteria.

Suigetsu sticks his head out of a nearby bar, looking at him quizzically. "…The fuck? You okay?"

Juugo goes a little further, and actually walks over to his team leader, trying to help him up from his knees. "Sasuke?"

Sasuke actually acquiesces, pulling himself to his full height, and subsequently wiping something from the corner of his eye. He tosses the wedding invitation at Suigetsu, who has joined them. "…Read this."

Suigetsu and Juugo make quick work out of reading the invitation; Juugo raises an eyebrow curiously, but Suigetsu is less refined. He barks with laughter. "Wait, Itachi – the guy who we're hunting down. Your clan-killing psycho brother. And…Sakura? Isn't she that irate pink haired chick who used to have a thing for _you_, Sasuke?"

Sasuke's brows draw together, and he makes a small sound of irritation in the back of his throat, as he reclaims the invitation. "Pathetic," he sneers. "Thinking that _I_ could fall for a ruse like that…"

"How very stupid of them?" Juugo offers meekly.

"So we're just going to ignore it and keep trying to find the Akatsuki Headquarters?" Suigetsu asks hopefully, his hand going to his sword. "I've got a bone to pick with that Hoshigaki wannabe—"

"No," Sasuke interrupts flatly, before offering them a small, dangerous sort of smile. "We're going to Konoha."

Juugo gapes. "You're going to your crazy brother's _wedding_? I mean, I know there's clan etiquette and stuff, but in light of past circumstances, I think you'd be off the hook…"

Sasuke smirks. "Hardly. If they're asinine enough to believe that they could lure me into capturing range through a scheme like this – well, a fight is obviously what they want, so that's what they are going to get. And they are going to be in _way_ over their heads."

Juugo nods resolutely, and Suigetsu licks the blade of his sword eagerly. "Bring it."

-

It is ten-thirty at night, and they are just an hour away from Konoha's gates. This fact is of no importance to Sasuke, whose breath is coming in shallow gasps, as his eyes flicker between onyx and crimson, his gaze darting frantically around the deserted clearing.

Juugo nudges Suigetsu. "Is he – all right?" he mutters in an undertone. "He's been like this for the part fifteen minutes."

Suigetsu shrugs, but Sasuke turns toward them sharply, letting a shuriken embed itself into a nearby tree. "My Itachi Senses," he mumbles, fairly shaking with repressed emotion, "are tingling."

Suigetsu shoots him an alarmed look, while inching away. "You have…Itachi Senses? That's just fucking _creepy_, man."

Juugo laughs nervously. "Well. Then. I think I'm going to go to the stream – take a bath. Or…something."

He flees, leaving the sharky Suigetsu alone with their bordering-on-insanity team leader. Sasuke is still trembling slightly, chakra dangerously flaring and sparking along every exposed nerve. Suigetsu squeaks a little, makes the requisite excuses, and follows in Juugo's footsteps.

Now alone – or, well, _almost_ alone, Sasuke tries to take a few deep breaths, steeling himself. Small puffs of smoke flare from his nostrils upon every exhalation, though, and the Katon is just aching to burst free of his lungs. His idiotic teammates had noticed nothing amiss, but he can just _feel_ his elder brother's presence.

Sasuke inhales and exhales again, forcing himself to achieve some semblance of calm, and running his icy hands through his hair. When he looks up, though, his gaze is bright with the crimson of the Sharingan. "Itachi," he whispers, almost raggedly. "Cut the psychotic shit. Both of us know that I know that you're out there – and that I'm more than ready to take you on. If you think you're _man_ enough, step out and face me."

Even before his statement is over, Uchiha Sasuke finds himself pinned to the bark of the nearest tree, his brother's icy fingers having curled mercilessly around his throat. He barely has time to blink, and Itachi leans forward, his Mangekyou swirling, and a predator's cold smile on his face. "Remember this, Sasuke – you asked for it. And," – his grip tightens – "you just may live to regret it."

Sasuke narrows his eyes right back, giving as good as he's got, and in one lightning-fast sweep of his hand, a wall of chakra springs up, forcing Itachi an arm's length away from him. The younger Uchiha laughs, a little, a kunai springing to his fingertips. "Is that the best you've got?"

Itachi raises an eyebrow. "Not in the least. But it is kind of you to ask, nevertheless."

-

The fight is on, and it is unrivalled in viciousness, brutality, and sheer uniqueness – it is the first time in recorded history that two Uchiha have ever gone head-to-head with killing intent.

Two hours in, Sasuke is unable to keep from gasping for breath; he staggers forward, a little unsteadily, and manages to score a long, shallow gash above Itachi's heart. Despite his fatigue, he sneers. "Losing your touch, aniki?" he taunts. "Getting rusty with age?" He lunges forward again, his kunai just missing his elder brother's throat by a hairsbreadth. "Or maybe your time is over. Maybe it's time for _my_ ascendancy."

Completely unconcerned, Itachi wipes some of the blood away from his chest with a fingertip, taking his time to observe it, apparently fascinated with the color. "Do you know what our father would always say to me during our training together?" he comments offhandedly, sidestepping a shuriken.

Sasuke blinks, thrown off for a moment, before the harsh, barely-constrained rage overwhelms him again, turning his voice into a snarl. "Don't you _dare_ mention him to me!"

This time, Itachi easily catches the dagger that is aimed at his heart, before sending it back in Sasuke's direction. "Father always used to tell me," he repeats softly, the Sharingan swirling hypnotically, "to maintain caution at all times – because pride always comes before a fall."

Sasuke blinks again, hastily looking away from his brother's doujutsu. "What—"

Then he hears a horrifyingly familiar telltale puff of smoke, and, again, Itachi's – the _real_ Itachi's – icy, merciless grip has locked around his throat, throwing him back against the tree with enough force to rattle his spine and take his breath away. Now Itachi is nose-to-nose with him, or almost; the five years difference between them has still given the elder several inches' advantage.

By the time Sasuke tries to close his eyes, it is too late; Itachi murmurs a soft jutsu under his breath, and it feels almost as if horrible, freezing fingers have plastered Sasuke's eyelids to his eyebrows. Itachi smirks in his most infuriating manner. "I've humored you for far too long, foolish little brother," he murmurs. "Tsukiyomi."

-

Death, all around him – blood and death and the most unimaginable forms of agony, incomprehensible to anybody who has never experienced this before. The flat side of the katana's blade forces Sasuke to his knees in the middle of what had once been the Uchiha compound, under the light of the scarlet moon, and Itachi follows, studying his younger brother's beaten, tortured body with an expression of scholarly interest. "You haven't screamed yet," Itachi observes. "Curious."

Even in this horrifying parallel universe, Sasuke manages to bare his teeth at his brother. "Perhaps I _have_ grown stronger – wouldn't you like that?"

Itachi reaches forward, locking his grip around Sasuke's throat once again, stroking his vulnerable jugular with one purple-painted fingernail. "I doubt it," Itachi says softly, drawing him closer. "Perhaps I am just not trying hard enough."

Just like that, Sasuke is thrown into an even deeper circle of hell; he is thrown into Itachi's _memories_, seeing the atrocities his elder brother has committed – death, death, accidentally wearing blue nail polish instead of purple, more death, torture, Hoshigaki Kisame gagging after eating some of the chicken Itachi had cooked for dinner, Shisui, the massacre, a fleeting vision of a blonde missing-nin howling after Itachi had broken his arm, blood everywhere, a flash of pink and green and red and of a familiar smile, more torture—

Wait.

_Sakura._

Itachi feels his younger brother tense; he laughs softly. "See anything that surprises you?"

Sasuke looks up at him, and hisses, almost like an injured cat. "Sakura."

Itachi simply watches him. "…Yes?"

It is a testament to Sasuke's strength that he is even able to struggle against the Tsukiyomi, which is what he is doing now. "Show it to me," he snarls. "You – her – what is she doing in your memories? She has no _business_ in there! What; have you been going after my former teammates?"

Itachi raises an eyebrow elegantly. "I do not believe that you could handle the answer to that particular question."

Sasuke actually coughs up a small ball of fire in his distress. "Stop fucking around and _show_ me, damn it!"

Itachi smirks slightly. "I would like to cite you on inappropriate word choice, and very well – it is _your_ funeral, brother."

-

In all actuality, Sasuke had not known what to expect, but it is fairly certain that it had not been _this._

Sakura and Itachi, sitting across from each other in a dimly lit room, with her fingertips gently pressed on his eyelids. Itachi, handing her a plate of her favorite food. Kneeling next to each other in some sort of mint fields at night, _talking_ civilly about nail polish. Itachi pressing a pair of designer sunglasses into her grip, curling her delicate fingers over them. Sakura kissing him on the cheek by proxy. Writing to each other. Itachi, authoring a _morbid poetic epic_, and Sakura, staying up all night to read it. Sakura and Itachi sitting across from each other at a fancy restaurant, sharing ice cream in comfortable silence. Itachi, holding a shriveled black rose and _kissing_ her, and her kissing him back, wholeheartedly, her fingers tangled in his hair—

In short, Sasuke watches Sakura, the girl who had loved _him_, fall in love with the elder brother who had, effectively, ruined his life, and his lips and lungs tremble with the strength it takes him to remain silent.

Itachi withdraws, dispassionately watching his brother fight for ragged breath after ragged breath. "No," Sasuke gasps, at last. "That's not real. That can't be real. I was supposed to be – she was never supposed to get over – with _you, _of all people – she was always going to wait for me, for me to finish my business with you—"

"Let me assure you, foolish little brother," Itachi whispers, tilting Sasuke's head up again, to meet his gaze. "It was very much real – but is apparent that you may need some more convincing of that little fact."

-

Sakura and Itachi, pressed up against a _wall—_

Sasuke's left eye twitches slightly; at that precise instant, something in his brain snaps, and he can no longer restrain his screams of pure, undiluted agony.

-

_Fifteen Minutes Later_

-

Naruto and Sakura are pacing back and forth in front of Konoha's gates; Naruto is trembling slightly, not just because of the cold, but she has a comforting arm around her best friend's shoulders. He stiffens when he feels Sakura's muscles tense, and she looks into the dark forest sharply. "They're coming."

Almost as if summoned by the words themselves, Uchiha Itachi flickers into existence in front of them; it is something that Naruto does not think he will ever get used to, and he growls, his hackles rising – before he sees the heart-stoppingly familiar black-haired, black-clad figure slung over his shoulder, and all the breath leaves his body. "…Sasuke," he croaks.

Without further ado, Itachi dumps his younger brother's thoroughly unconscious form into Naruto's waiting, orange-clad arms. To his credit, the fox-boy doesn't flinch, although his eyes narrow upon noting his former teammate's lack of response. "You didn't—" he glares up at Itachi.

"No," Sakura interrupts, placing a firm hand on Naruto's shoulder, and, for a moment, Itachi thinks he sees her eyes mist over with tears, but she blinks a few times, and her vision clears again. "He's fine. It's just – the aftereffects of the Tsukiyomi, if I'm not mistaken."

Naruto pokes Sasuke in the throat, checking for a pulse. "You didn't hurt him?" he presses, suspicious.

Itachi is unable to hold back his smirk. "Let me assure you that my foolish little brother is physically unharmed."

This time, it's Sakura who gives him the suspicious look. "Mentally?"

Itachi offers the two younger shinobi a dangerous sort of smile. "I cannot make any promises."

"_What_?" Naruto squawks, quite alarmed.

Itachi shrugs, unconcerned. "He pushed me. And he may never be the same again, but in my personal opinion, from here, there can only be an improvement."

With a swift kiss to Sakura's cheek and a slight nod to Naruto, he is gone, leaving Team Seven standing – or being carried, as the case may be – but whole again for, the first time in a decade.

"Hell of a weird guy you've got there, Sakura-chan," Naruto grouses, attempting to adjust Sasuke into a more comfortable position. "But I have to admit that this is a pretty awesome wedding present."

Sakura smiles, flinging one of Sasuke's limp arms over her shoulders, as they make their way back into the village. "For once, Naruto, I agree with you – on both counts."

And for his part, Sasuke just adjusts his head and drools a little.

-

_Three Months Later_

-

Ever since the tender age of ten years old, Haruno Sakura has fantasized about her perfect wedding.

This is most definitely _not_ it.

Well, to be fair – she _does_ have the perfect venue, a breathtakingly gorgeous Vera Wang wedding dress donated by the tearful Tobi, the presence of all the people she loves the most in the world (with the addition of the Akatsuki), and she is, after all, marrying an Uchiha.

(According to her childhood daydreams, however, she is most definitely marrying the _wrong_ Uchiha, but that is totally besides the point.)

The most important point is, that when Sakura envisioned her wedding, she had hardly expected it to be an armed camp. Which is, unfortunately, what it has descended into – at least according to the periodic reports from Konohamaru and Moegi.

"Oh, damn," Sakura winces, as Konan and Tobi help adjust her gown, making the final last-minute preparations for her walk down the aisle. "Maybe holding two separate ceremonies would have been a better idea."

Konan takes a moment to pat her on the hand soothingly. "Nonsense. I'm sure everybody is conducting themselves with the utmost maturity and composure suited to such a wonderful occasion."

Tobi fussily fixes the sleeve of the gown. "Don't worry, Sakura-chan! I'm sure my friends and your friends are becoming _best_ friends!"

Sakura swallows doubtfully. "…If you say so."

-

_Meanwhile…_

-

"I hate you."

Pein blinks at the blonde Kyuubi vessel. "…Pardon?"

"Get a damn hobby, why don't you?" Naruto explodes, tugging irritably at the collar of his dress shirt. "You've been trying to kill me for the past decade! You ruin everybody's life! Can't you just take your stupid organization and make them do _other_ things besides jinchiruuki extraction?"

Pein sighs in his most world-weary fashion. "It is nothing personal, I assure you, although I strongly object to your calling my organization _stupid._ And what _else_ are we supposed to do beside jinchiruuki extraction? Organized crime rings have so few options nowadays. Originality has always been a priority with Akatsuki."

Naruto scratches his head thoughtfully. "If originality's what you're going for, you could train all of your people in poker or blackjack and become card sharks."

The Akatsuki Leader frowns. "I doubt it will suffice, but it is an interesting idea nevertheless, brat. Perhaps we can discuss this further at the punch table."

"Not a brat, that's 'Future Rokudaime Hokage', to you." Naruto scowls, crossing his arms. "And I'll only come if you promise not to extract anything on the way there."

Pein sighs again; damn boy and his stupid loopholes. "…Fine."

-

"You don't remember me."

Gai frowns deeply, staring at Kisame in his most thoughtful manner. "No, you don't ring a bell. Not in the least."

Kisame fairly growls, wishing that Sakura hadn't mandated that Samehada stay at Akatsuki Headquarters for the duration of the day. "We've met twice before, spandex freak. I've kicked your ass both times."

Gai considers this for a moment, before bursting out into one of his impossibly bright smiles. "That was all in the past, though! Let us embrace the power of youth and begin a wonderful friendship, in which we learn from each other's strengths in order to better ourselves into even more remarkable individuals!"

Kisame sighs, rubbing his aching temples. "…Not until you remember who I am, green machine."

Gai stares at him intently for a minute straight. "Oh, my Buddha!" he gasps at last, his eyes widening to the size of dinner plates. "I've got it! I can't believe I didn't realize it before!"

Kisame grins in his most shark-like fashion. "About time."

"You were in _Jaws_, weren't you?" Gai screeches triumphantly, before launching forward and prodding Kisame's face curiously. "Wow, they really did wonders with your makeup…"

At this point, Hoshigaki Kisame, feared member of the Seven Swordsmen of the Mist, sighs and tries his best to retreat without shedding any blood.

-

"Oh, no you didn't, bitch," Yamanaka Ino glares, drawing herself up to her full height and placing her hands on her hips. "You _stole_ my fucking hairstyle."

Insulted, Deidara sneers. "It's not _your _hairstyle, un. Besides, I wear it much better than you do, you washed-up platinum-blonde—"

"_What_?" Ino screeches, brandishing a toothpick at him. "Did you just call me _washed-up_, you…you…pansy-ass artist boy?"

Deidara narrows his visible eye. "Damn straight I called you washed-up, un. Platinum blonde was so last season and aesthetically _out_ to begin with. Honey blonde," – he twirls the end of his ponytail around a finger demonstratively – "has always been a richer, fuller, and more flattering shade, un."

Ino regards him with equally narrowed eyes. "Really."

"Yeah, un," Deidara scoffs, giving her another once-over. "In all fairness, though, you wouldn't be a complete loss if you switched to my shade. It would do wonders for bringing out the blue in your eyes, un."

Ino sniffs, before taking his arm and leading him over to the front row. "Fine, then. Sit with me, and we'll talk highlights. Since you're supposed to be so artistically savvy, and all. But don't get any weird ideas or anything."

-

"Hey there, hot stuff," Hidan grins lasciviously, advancing on the terrified-looking Hyuuga Hinata.

In the interests of preserving peace at one of her closest friends' wedding, Hinata refrains from shutting down all of his tenketsu on principle. "H-hello," she stammers nervously, inching away from the Akatsuki member. "H-how are you on this lovely evening?"

Hidan smirks, and Hinata blanches as he slips one strong hand onto her shoulder. "I'm fine, but I would be better if you and I could—"

Suddenly, there is such a spike of murderous intent in the room that Hidan actually thinks that Itachi had appeared behind him. Instead, the Akatsuki's resident zealot turns to face ANBU Captain Hyuuga Neji, dressed in full formal regalia, and looking ready to kill. "Unhand her immediately," Neji pronounces, each word dripping poison.

Hidan sneers, and slides his arm more completely around the white-eyed girl's shaking shoulders. "Possessive bastard, aren't you? Don't you know that that shit's illegal, where I come from?"

Hinata squeaks, and, upon recognizing the implication, nearly faints.

Neji's left eye twitches.

In the next second, the massive punch bowl has been overturned on Hidan's head, and he collapses to the floor bonelessly, all of his tenketsu having being shut down.

"N-Neji, you didn't have to do that," Hinata says, horrified.

Neji gives an aristocratic sniff and nudges the limp Hidan with his foot. "He insulted you."

"Hinata has a point."

Much to his horror, Neji looks around to find the Godaime Hokage, tapping one high-heeled foot on the floor and looking very, very angry. Without further ado, her hand snaps out, grabbing the ANBU Captain by the ear. "I know this is an – awkward – situation," Tsunade hisses, "but I promised Sakura I would ensure that she had the finest wedding possible, under the, ah…circumstances. One behavioral demerit, Hyuuga."

"But—"

Tsunade releases him, glaring. "_And_ I'm telling Sakura."

Neji pales.

After the Hokage has stormed off, Hinata joins him, before patting him on the arm timidly. "…Told you."

-

"Eh, Sakura," Tsunade says, poking her head into the dressing room. "I hate to rush you, but, uh—"

Sakura's eye twitches. "What happened?"

"Naruto and the Akatsuki Leader are involved in an increasingly competitive game of poker, I think Hoshigaki Kisame might kill Gai any second now, Yamanaka Ino and Deidara are flirting like the world's coming to an end tomorrow, and Hyuuga Neji just threw the entire punch bowl over Hidan's head."

Sakura only smiles at her reflection, before graciously accepting her bouquet from Konan. "That's it, Tsunade-shishou – I'm walking down that aisle right now. And when I'm done with that, I'm kicking all of their sorry asses."

Sakura sweeps out of the room, and Konan nods at the Godaime Hokage civilly. "You did an excellent job, if I do say so myself."

Tsunade beams, pleased. "I know."

-

Having just managed to extricate himself from Gai in the nick of time, Kisame goes wandering through the bowels of the church, utilizing the very same breathing exercises that he is always going on about.

That is, until he passes a certain door, the door flies open, a certain icy hand locks around his windpipe and drags him in, and suddenly, Kisame is face-to-face with Itachi, who is breathing very shallowly and looking quite a bit more dangerous than usual – which is really saying something.

Kisame gasps for breath, massaging his throat, and his eyes widen slightly upon making contact with his disheveled-looking partner. Itachi's hair has been thrown up into a messy bun, his white dress shirt is rolled up to his elbows and buttoned up unevenly, his scarlet tie has been knotted at the wrong angle, the jacket has been thrown into a corner, and his eyes are switching from crimson to onyx at an alarming rate. "Kisame," Itachi rasps hoarsely. "Help me."

It is a frightening sight, and an even more frightening prospect, to say the least, but Kisame cannot help but chuckle as he looks at his rather demented partner. It is one of the rare glimpses of a more human side of Itachi, even though these moments have become more common in the past one and a half years. "You know, Itachi," Kisame comments, as they both attempt to re-dress him in a more composed fashion. "If Deidara or Tobi were here, they would say that you're kinda cute like this. Like – a confused little puppy, or something."

Itachi removes his tie, gives Kisame's neck a pointed look, and then snaps the tie. "Shut up, Kisame."

Kisame sniggers, now positively enjoying himself. "Little Itachi, all grown up and getting married—"

Now dressed properly – although still radiating scariness – Itachi kicks Kisame out of the room. Literally. The shark-man's shoulder makes contact with the other side of the hallway, and he rubs it ruefully. "Some things never change, I guess."

-

By the time the ceremony begins, everybody is seated properly, the punch has been mopped up, all weapons have been checked at the door, Hidan has been slapped back into consciousness, Naruto and Kakashi have firm holds on Sasuke's straitjacket, and everybody has been more or less forced into sullen silence. There is the requisite awed hush when Sakura makes her way down the aisle, breathtakingly beautiful in her ivory wedding gown, and, miraculously, nobody throws any sharp and pointy projectiles at Itachi.

This isn't out of some kind of sudden rush of goodwill or even grudging acceptance of the eldest Uchiha, though. Every single Konoha shinobi in the area _thinks_ about offing Itachi, wishes that they _could_ off Itachi, and Naruto and Kakashi almost hatch a plan to throw Sasuke at the priest to create a distraction, subsequently charge the altar, and then 'accidentally' stab Itachi through the heart with one of the butter knives from the snack table.

Then, however, they remember Sakura. And it is not out of respect for her feelings, but a healthy respect for her ability to reduce a solid stone wall to ash with one twitch of her fist, that they do not do anything rash.

Luckily, Sakura has no idea of their thoughts, and takes her vows with a smile.

Itachi, however, _does_ have a very good idea of their thoughts, and takes his vows with a smirk; happy with the knowledge that he is, by this act, not only ensuring his happiness and Sakura's, but sticking it to Konoha _again._ And that is certainly cause for celebration.

Much to Deidara's alarm, Ino begins sobbing violently, even as the entire party breaks into reluctant applause for the unlikely couple. Deidara cringes away. "Bit late for second thoughts, un?"

"No, it's not that," Ino sobs. "My little Sakura, all grown up and getting married…"

With a look of interest, Deidara unearths an Akatsuki-embroidered handkerchief and flings it at her. "The fact that she's marrying an S-class criminal doesn't bother you in the least, un?"

"Not at all," Ino sniffles, mopping at her eyes. "Just look at them! They're so well suited!"

Another intriguing thought crosses his mind. "So…_you_ wouldn't be opposed to dating a criminal, un?"

To his horror, the sodden handkerchief lands on the shoulder of his dark blue dress shirt, as the definitely interesting Yamanaka Ino wipes the last of the tears from her face and makes her way through the crowd to congratulate her best friend. "I wouldn't," she calls over her shoulder, before disappearing from sight, "but it would be hard to find a good one, don't you think?"

Deidara watches her go, before deflating somewhat. "Ugh."

Tobi bounds up out of nowhere, only to cling to him in a hug. "Oh, Deidara-senpai!" he wails passionately. "Wasn't that just so _beautiful_?"

"Kind of, un," Deidara concedes, trying to pry him loose, before freezing, horrified. "Uh, Tobi – why does Hidan have the microphone?"

Tobi and Deidara turn around, panicked, and scanning the crowd until they find Leader-sama and Konan, both of whom look as astounded as they do. The Leader makes frantic 'kunai-across-the-throat' gestures with a paper kunai that Konan had hurriedly crafted for this express purpose, but it is too late.

Hidan smirks.

"Attention!" he hollers, his voice amplified to a startling level, and all activity within the church comes to a close, as all shinobi, Akatsuki and Konoha alike, stare at him with something akin to pure terror written on their faces. "One, everybody get your asses over there and congratulate the lucky bitches, and two; let's get this party _started_!"

To Pein and Konan's surprise, this statement triggers an overwhelming roar of assent through the crowd; Pein looks at Konan, raising an eyebrow. "Interesting; he's a crowd pleaser. Maybe we could rent him out to birthday parties, wedding receptions, and events that require a DJ."

Itachi relaxes fractionally, despite having just been referred to as a _lucky bitch._ Then the latter part of Hidan's statement registers, and he frowns. "Sakura," he murmurs in an undertone, while quite determinedly ignoring Hatake Kakashi attempting to glare a hole through his back, "you never mentioned anything about a _party_."

Sakura hugs Lee and Tenten at the same time, and beams at him over their shoulders. "What did you think 'fantastic reception afterward' meant?"

"A quiet and dignified get-together, of course."

Four echoing cracks sound from across the hallway, and Itachi stiffens – before realizing that it's just Deidara, Kisame, Genma, and Raidou, who have begun to pop champagne bottles and toss them out into the crowd. "Any and all toasts welcome, un!" Deidara yells, before shooting a warning look at the straitjacketed Sasuke. "But not you, un."

Sasuke deflates slightly.

"Open mic!" Hidan howls, before grinning at the advancing Kiba. "Not so easy, dog-boy. You've got to rap-battle me if you want it…"

Itachi and Sakura watch the madness, feeling somewhat overwhelmed. "Oh, my Buddha," Sakura laughs, as she listens to Ino and Deidara battle over who can make a more eloquent toast. "They're _coexisting._ In a kinda sorta peaceful manner. This is shocking. This is momentous. We may have started a trend, or the beginning of a new era…"

Itachi winces as he sees the undoubtedly dynamic meeting of Tobi and Maito Gai's protégé, the infamous Rock Lee. "Buddha forbid," he says dryly.

Sakura laughs, standing on her tiptoes to press a kiss to his cheek. "What are _you_ looking for?"

He glances down at her, before deciding to impart some of the truth. "…Leader-sama and Konan."

Sakura's eyes widen slightly. "_No._"

Itachi smirks at the predictability of her reaction. "He believed that a wedding would be the ideal occasion in which to voice his – sentiment – toward her."

Sakura finally spots them, engaged in polite conversation with Neji and Hinata. "Well, this," – she gestures vaguely to their surroundings; namely, Hidan and Kiba's extreme rapping, a great variety of drunken toasts, and generally, a good deal of mayhem and madness – "is hardly conducive to a romantic proposal."

Itachi's eyes narrow when he sees where she intends to go with this. "Sakura—"

"Nope, we're in this together, Uchiha," Sakura replies, undaunted, before grabbing him by the hand and beginning to weave through the crowd. "I know that you're only romantic in the twisted, creepy sort of way, but together, we can work wonders. First, we've got to find Tobi…"

-

It takes a long period of intense and discreet planning to make Sakura's plan work. It is late, and the reception is beginning to wind down, when Tobi takes the stage, accompanied by an acoustic guitar. Sakura and Itachi follow in his wake; Sakura looks radiant, while Itachi merely looks like he is in pain, but that is the normal state of events, after all.

Tobi taps the microphone a couple of times. "Um, hello?"

When all attention shifts to him, he grins and waves at his audience cheerily. "Hi! My name is Tobi and I'm very glad to meet all of you!"

"Hi, Tobi," Lee, Tenten, and Gai recite back to him.

Tobi nearly falls over with glee at such a cheerful reception. "As all of you know, today was a wonderful and joyous day. As it is winding to a close, I thought it would be appropriate to dedicate a certain very special song to Itachi-san and Sakura-san, as they get ready to embark on their life together—"

"I'm going to fucking _puke_," Hidan whispers to Deidara.

Deidara snickers, noticing the tortured expression on Itachi's face. "Maybe little red-eye's going to beat you to it."

"—And for any couples who want to join in and dance," Tobi continues, blissfully unaware of his comrades' side conversation, "please feel free! Spread the love!"

As Tobi begins to strum his guitar, Itachi casts a significant look at his new wife. "Sakura, I don't think this is a very good idea."

"Why?" she asks innocently, moving closer to him and taking one of his hands.

Itachi winces almost imperceptibly. "I cannot—ah, I can't dance."

Sakura gives him an incredulous look, while watching Lee spin Tenten around gracefully. "You can't dance?"

"Sakura, I spent my formative years as a member of the world's foremost criminal organization. That does not leave much time for instructive dance lessons, and," – he raises an eyebrow upon catching sight of Neji and Hinata waltzing in a corner – "my clan found it of greater importance to push me through the shinobi ranks as quickly as humanly possible, rather than spending much time focusing on the social graces."

"Mmm," Sakura slips her arms around his shoulders, subtly guiding his hands to her waist. "We can improvise, I guess – argh!"

"What?" Itachi narrowly avoids stepping on her toe.

"See the lights, see the party, the ballgowns, see you make your way through the crowd and say hello," Tobi warbles flawlessly—

"Pein and Konan are dancing!"

Itachi smirks, resting his chin on the top of her head for a moment. "Oh, joy," he deadpans.

Sakura pulls back, looking definitely alarmed. "Oh my Buddha, I just freaked out with glee upon noticing that the leader of your criminal organization is dancing with his girlfriend and may propose to her within a few minutes."

"After your wedding to a member of said criminal organization, no less," Itachi says dryly.

Sakura blinks up at him, a stray lock of hair falling into her eyes. "Our lives have been really screwed up, haven't they?"

"Because you were Romeo and I was the scarlet letter, and my daddy said stay away from Juliet—"

Tobi's voice hits a high note that it, biologically, should not have been able to hit, and Itachi draws Sakura close in a rare tender moment. "Yes. But it is rather more entertaining than living an average, mundane sort of life."

-

"Oh my Jashin-sama, are little red-eye and the irate kunoichi actually engaging in PDA?" Hidan gasps, scandalized.

Kisame glances over at them – "For Buddha's sake, Hidan, he just kissed her forehead."

"This love is difficult, but it's real; don't be afraid, we'll make it out of this mess—"

"Ugh, Sharky, Leader-sama and Konan should shut Tobi up, I may puke," Hidan sighs.

"Where are they, anyway?" Kisame asks curiously.

Hidan turns, scanning the crowd. "Deidara's dancing with the blonde chick who looks like his twin sister; what is up with that shit? And – _oh holy fucking mother of Jashin-sama!_"

Kisame pounces on Hidan, stifling the zealot's mouth with his hand. "What?" he hisses.

"Konan! Leader-sama!" Hidan gestures wildly, obviously traumatized. "He gave her a fucking ring! Just now! Slipped it on her finger and I swear to Jashin-sama she had a tear in her eye!"

Discretion forgotten, Kisame stands on the tips of his toes, and he chokes on his glass of champagne when he sees that Hidan had, actually, not been hyperbolizing. "…Wow," Kisame manages, stunned.

Hidan and Kisame promptly seat themselves in the nearest chairs, stunned.

"Itachi and Sakura," Kisame ticks off on his fingers. "Leader-sama and Konan, and I'll bet that Deidara and that Ino girl are next. And who knows about Tobi? I bet after this little singing debut, all the single kunoichi here are going to be throwing themselves at him like he's a member of one of those crappy little pop bands."

"…Fuck, we're missing out," Hidan sighs ruefully.

"Maybe we should, you know," Kisame suggests, "…find some interesting kunoichi, one of these days. See what all the fuss is about."

Tobi's voice rises poignantly. "You'll be the prince, and I'll be the princess; it's a love story, baby, just say yes—"

In perfect unison, Kisame and Hidan crack up. "No," Kisame wheezes, clutching at his aching ribs.

Hidan actually wipes a tear away from the corner of his eyes. "We don't need that shit – we can just laugh at the sorry assholes that this actually happens to."

-

It is late, by now, and the only people left at the church are Itachi, Sakura, and the rest of Akatsuki. Well, in all fairness, Sakura is trying her Tsunade-approved best to finish the champagne, and is egging Itachi on. "Come on! I want to be the first person to ever get _the_ Uchiha Itachi drunk!"

"Never," Itachi deadpans, looking quite content with his shotglass of Acai-Blueberry-Pomegranate Vitamin Water. "I wouldn't want to put myself in a vulnerable position in which I could get taken advantage of, after all."

Sakura laughs, and is about to playfully shove him in the shoulder when Hidan, Kisame, Tobi, and Deidara stroll up. The former seems to be holding something behind his back, while the latter smirks at them. _"Damn_. Save it for later tonight, un."

Without further ado, Itachi reaches out and breaks the shotglass over Deidara's head. "Shut up."

Sakura smirks at the blonde artist. "So says the guy who was found in a closet, making out with my best friend."

Deidara smirks right back, shaking the shards of glass out of his disheveled mane. "I don't kiss and tell, un."

"Anyway," Kisame offers, smiling in a rather sharky and suspicious way. "We brought a – wedding present. Of sorts."

Itachi raises an eyebrow at him, sensing something amiss. "Really."

"Show him," Kisame decrees.

Sakura and Itachi blink as something resembling a tiny pillowcase, embroidered with the black-and-red Akatsuki clouds, is thrown at them.

Sakura lifts it up, inspecting it. "Wow, guys – that was really nice of you, but…we already have a lot of linens and stuff for the house…"

Itachi just glowers menacingly.

The other Akatsuki members smirk in response, before Hidan nods to Tobi. "That's not linens and stuff, Sakura-san!" Tobi chirps happily. "It's clothes!"

"…For the little sprog, when it arrives," Kisame completes.

Sakura's left eye twitches, while Itachi busies himself trying to look as if he would rather be anywhere but here. "What," she says, with a tone of deceptive calmness, "makes you think that I would want my innocent future offspring to toddle about dressed in Akatsuki colors?"

Deidara smiles evilly, preparing his artistic finish, while jerking a thumb over at the pale Itachi. "Oh, I seem to recall the Uchiha promising that we could dress the kid up and he could be like our mascot, un."

Sakura turns to Itachi. "…Mascot."

"Mascot!" Tobi repeats, for clarification.

"We could hold him out before we killed somebody, so they could be like, 'oh my fucking God, it's a cute little baby,' and then they would be all disarmed in the face of the cuteness, and then we could kill them and it would be a piece of fucking cake!" Hidan crows, before sobering somewhat in the face of Sakura's glare. "…All little red-eye's idea, of course."

Itachi chooses this moment to rip his jacket off, lunge forward, and attempt to strangle Hidan with his tie.

Deidara smirks. "Time to go, un?"

Kisame grins. "Naturally."

"But we can't just leave Hidan-san!" Tobi chips in, worried. "Not with Itachi-san trying to strangle him with his tie, and Sakura-san trying to stab his eyes out with one of her stilettos!"

"Of course we can, un," Deidara explains.

Kisame smirks, looking at the violent scene in front of him with an expression of scholarly interest. "…Damn, they really _are_ well suited, aren't they?"

Deidara grins. "Definitely, un."

-

_the end._

_-_

_for realz this time._

* * *

You know, I came up with the entire idea for this story while I was in the shower on the morning of November 1st, after listening to Taylor Swift's Love Story. I wrote it purely for the lulz and on the spur of the moment, but as long as I've got at least a few of you to laugh a little bit along the way, then, well, my purpose in writing this is pretty much complete. :)

Thank you so much for your kind feedback throughout; knowing that other people enjoyed reading this as much as I enjoyed writing it has been great.

Until next time, feedback appreciated!


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